Near Wild Heaven
by Slytherinvillain7
Summary: Wizengamot lawyer Hermione (or Madam Granger, as she is known by the wizarding community) has her life all figured out until her childhood rival Draco Malfoy shows up & throws everything out of the whack. The world comes crashing down after Hermione's past begins to haunt their future. A story filled with love, lust and longing between two of the greatest characters of HP series.
1. In Solitary

**Edited by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **In** **Solitary**

It was the witching hour.

The remote hill he was seated on was eerily quiet.

He didn't mind the silence, though.

He was used to quiet. He liked quiet.

After being surrounded by people who would be at his beck and call whenever the hell he wanted, this silence beckoned him.

He sat there on the little rocky part of the hill lost in his own train of thoughts...

It had been years since the Battle of Hogwarts had ended. It had been several years since the war had stopped. But that had not stopped the volcano of problems he had had to endure after that.

Perhaps _endure_ was a wrong term.

After everything he and his family had done, it was hardly undeniable...unexpected.

He still remembered that fateful day. Almost too vividly.

How couldn't he?

He remembered it all.

Like it was yesterday.

How they had sat in a corner, huddled up and scared after the Dark Lord's death.

How his mother had been unwilling to let go of his arm for even a second.

How she had not even spared a glance at the body of her own sister she had once loved, but looked anxiously at people, terrified at the thought that they might be captured as the Death Eater family, or worse, killed.

 _Kill_.

That's what they had done.

That's what _he_ had done.

And this was his guerdon for it. This life debt.

Lucius' one decision of choosing power had nearly destroyed them...jeopardized their very existence.

It made him wonder sometimes, had he been in Lucius' stead, would he have done the same thing?

For power? For blood?

Had it all been worth it?

But there was no point contemplating about that now. He had made the same mistakes like his forefathers and suffered the consequences. Severely.

He knew Lucius Malfoy had always been a cunning old bastard with a cold heart, but he was his father in the end.

He could never forgive him, but neither could he leave him. He had always believed that his father would right the thing. Whatever the price.

Hell, that's what kids are taught when they were little, right? To trust their parents while they looked after you?

And Lucius, no doubt, had always stood by him.

Although his proclivity quivered when it came to the Dark Lord, but you simply cannot say 'No' to him and expect him to pat your back and nod in understanding. It was either his word or death.

And Lucius, of course, had preferred to live.

When the thunder of applause had erupted and everyone realized Voldemort was dead, the remaining Death Eaters had started fleeing.

He remembered someone calling his father's name...urging them to run away. Lucius was more than willing. He had grabbed them both to apparate them, but his mother had denied. It had been her word that had stopped Lucius. He had argued with her that they would be killed if they stayed, but she had been adamant.

After several hours they had been arrested by the Aurors and they went. Together.

People had scoffed at them, abused them; taunted that his family had finally got what they deserved. He never realized they were hated so strongly. So vehemently... He thought some wizards at one point were more happy about them being convicted than the death of the Dark Lord himself.

But they had faced it all, as a family.

It had taken months of trials, countless Azkaban visits, several mass protestations (obviously, against them), but he and his family had been declared clear of all charge. Lucius had been subjected to house arrest, which secretly, both he and his mother preferred.

Of course, the wizarding world had been in an uproar for this. They thought we had got off easily. For they everyone knew what a disgusting family his was and what they had done. But it was _his_ word that had saved them.

He didn't know how Harry Potter had done that. He didn't know _why_ he had done that. He wasn't expecting it. _Fuck,_ he was expecting Harry Potter to give testimony against them. But Harry Potter had stunned their world yet again.

He would never know his reasons.

It was something he could never understand.

It wasn't that he was unhappy about the verdict.

It was just...unbelievable.

Someone might say that he was an ungrateful bastard to not be content about escaping a cruel punishment. But he disagreed. His each day felt like punishment. Every second felt like he was being gauged, being mocked. How could he be happy about such a life? There was hardly anything for him to be glad about.

Although it was never his initial choice, he had studied like crazy to pass his Auror entrance exam, knowing that this was his only chance to prove himself. And he was sure he had surpassed everyone who had appeared along with him, only to find that he was rejected cause of his past.

Dejected, he had then made up his mind to begin his new life in a far off place where he wasn't known, where his father's reputation was not heard of.

But surprisingly, only after a couple of days, he had received a sealed Ministry letter asking him to join as a junior Auror to begin his training; and he had without a second thought grabbed that anchor.

He tried showing how grateful he was for the opportunity by working relentlessly, mercilessly. He didn't want anyone questioning about him. Wondering whether he was truly his father's son. He strived hard. He knew he had. Perhaps, it wasn't enough. It never was.

Just after a couple of years in service, he felt that his each and every action was being judged. His each miscalculation, every error had made him stand out yet again.

How was he supposed to realize that the little child the death eater was threatening to kill in order to escape getting caught was already dead?

Or, why he had hesitated to kill a man who had begged him to believe that he had changed, that his family was being blackmailed— _for he knew exactly how that felt_ —only to find his partner dead at the crime scene and the wizard gone when he had only turned his back for just a microsecond...

People didn't care to know the circumstances as long as he had handled it in a way where death was the only privilege to his assailant. They expected him to be a ruthless manipulative arsehole. And he lived up to their expectations. He gave them exactly what they wanted. Deserving or not.

Atleast that's what he thought.

Sighing to himself, Draco ran his hand through his hair and donned the jacket closer to his chest.

He was feeling exhausted tonight as he had had an extremely tiring day. The case he was working on was just seconds away from cracking. He could feel it. His guts were telling him that.

But for some reason he didn't feel like working this evening. He was tired. He was exhausted. It felt like every day he was carrying more weight on his shoulders than he ought to. But deep inside, he knew it was just frustration for his life. His worthlessness.

Tonight he just wanted to be alone for a while. From prying eyes. From not so subtle whispers. And also from concerning worry in his mother's eyes.

He just wanted to be left alone. Be invisible. Or, be non-existant, just so that he can decide what he ought to do with his life.

He missed his friends. He never thought he'd say this, but, he missed his school life. Their morning breakfast, his sneaking out with Blaise and Theo, their common room, Quidditch...everything.

His lips slightly curled upwards as he recalled some of Blaise's past antics with the girls. He still wondered why he was still friends with some of the people. Theo, yes, cause they had similar problems. Though not of the same magnitude. But he wondered his friendship with Blaise.

But if anything, Blaise had not judged him. They had met one day when he was trying to find work and had shared a drink.

And that was that.

No questions asked.

Chuckling at the idea that sending an owl at this hour to his old mate, would no doubt return with a howler for him, Draco stretched his tired arms and leaned forwards to rise, when he heard a distant pop, alerting him of some unknown presence.

He instantly became alert and quietly moved his wand hand inside the jacket.

Auror or Ex-Death Eater, Draco knew that he had made enough enemies who would gladly finish him off.

He stooped a little to not give away his location even though he was aware that the sharp edges of the rocks would help his cover.

Straining to hear even the slightest sound of any indication, he quietly sat gripping his wand as he tried to see through the mist. He couldn't.

He narrowed his eyes to see sharply and after a few seconds, he glimpsed a slouched hooded figure walking in the distance. He wondered who this stranger was, quickly assessing if it was a trap.

However, the rain and the splashing sound of waves on the lower rocks, along with the fog made it difficult for him to ascertain what this new entrant was up to.

With his other hand, he rubbed his eyes to clear his vision, his heartbeat intensifying as he expected retaliation any second.

Evidently, Draco assumed, the stranger wasn't aware of Draco's presence as he kept walking towards the edge of the hill.

Draco realized what this wanderer was going to do before he could ascertain that there was no immediate threat to him.

He promptly got up and after securely holding his wand, started following him stealthily.

He caught sight of the figure halted at the edge, apparently peering over the splashes of waves hitting the rocks below.

The sound it created was thunderous enough to make anyone close his ears. However, the wanderer didn't mind that.

Draco observed him standing there for what seemed like an eternity and then, without a second thought, the figure jumped in the open air.

Draco swore and started running forwards. He hastily cast _Impedimenta_ and reached the split of the hill to watch the figure sprawled like an eagle as it slowly fell on the lower rocks.

 _If the sea won't kill him then the sharp rocks would_ , Draco thought as he hurriedly stunned him and cast _Mobilicorpus_ to move his unconscious body up the hill.

Once he had hauled him safely on the ridge, he angrily snatched the stranger's wand lying nearby and pointed it at his back to innervate him.


	2. Friend or Foe

**Edited by** **:** **_Frogster_**

* * *

 **Friend** **Or Foe**

Draco was beyond furious.

Not only was he having a bad day already, but he had just witnessed a suicide attempt. He would have to call the bloody reinforcement team to take this idiot away.

His hands shook in latent anger as he glared at the figure. "What do you think you were doing?" he hissed through a clipped voice. He was panting slightly and was bent on his knees to fill air in his lungs. The effort of pulling the wizard had drained him. The fact that this _lowlife_ would let go of his life so easily infuriated him.

 _Nobody-_ and he was pretty damn sure of it- _nobody_ _had it as bad as himself_.

He was about to shake the stranger and exact an answer when the figure showed signs of life and groaned.

All she wanted to do was jump off and be done with it. But now, here she was not just wet and cold, but also with the burden of explaining her actions. As it is her life was going so smoothly. She whined in objection.

Curling herself into a ball, she tried to slow her racing heart beat when she heard the stranger shout again.

"Answer me!" the voice yelled, showing all signs of impatience.

There was such dominance, such, such arrogance in that tone that she couldn't help but be annoyed with her lifesaver.

She had no doubt that he was a wizard. She faintly recalled hearing a roar and then some words, which she now realized must have been a spell preventing her from a certain death.

She wondered if she could thank the stranger with some galleons and leave before he realized who she was.

 _Yeah, that made sense_. Nobody could deny money. Arguing with herself whether ten galleons would be enough for his prize, she tried to retrieve the purse by putting her hand inside the damp dress and shivered in reaction as some droplets fell on her thigh.

But before she could do anything else, the wizard swore (which agitated her even more. _Merlin! How uncouth was he?_ ) and tried to remove her cover. She stiffened in reaction, turning instantly on her stomach and held her robe firmly over herself.

When she felt him tug at it again, she threw her hood aside and turned back to glare, but, instead, found herself staring directly at a pair of angry, gray eyes.

Recognition hit her.

 _Gallopin' Gorgons!_

She had not seen the likes of Draco Malfoy for almost a year. _Well, not exactly,_ for they both did work at the Ministry, but unless one called passing in a corridor or sharing an elevator as a proper meeting, she didn't remember seeing him otherwise. It must have been years since they may have even greeted each other cordially. Even on their best days with polite company who weren't privy to their history, they would hardly acknowledge each other.

At Ministry parties, she remembered him gracing the venue by his great sneer, and then he'd go sulk in some corner or would disappear Merlin knew where.

She had no idea what he was doing here or how he had found her.

And now, _now_ , not only was he in front of her, but by the looks of it had saved her life.

 _Fuck it all to hell!_

If only she had died rather than face this smug look of his, she whinged in disappointment.

For the first time in his life, Draco was beyond speechless as he realized that the person he had stopped from killing herself was none other than his old nemesis _._

He observed a series of emotions soaring through her animated eyes as he masked his own. Annoyance... as she was provoked to answer... surprise... when she saw who he was... shock... when she realized he had saved her... anger... as it dawned on her that it was _he_ who had saved her.

His own eyes burned with contempt and embarrassment as he couldn't help but be irked by her reaction.

Tilting back his head, he sneered at her, "Did that ugly cat of yours got your tongue, _Grang-err?"_ He sing-songed.

Her face flushed in fury as she retaliated almost on a reflex, "Shut up, Malfoy!"

 _Touché_ , Draco smirked. _This had always been their comeback to him._

Mentally cursing her stars, Hermione crinkled her nose and rose from the ground when she realized no assistance would be offered to her again tonight. She pushed herself up and ignoring him, dusted her palms on her robe and then when she couldn't delay it any longer, extended her hand towards him.

Draco's left eyebrow automatically rose upwards in retort. "Thanks for the offer, Granger. But I don't think I'm _thaaat_ _desperate_ to consider you for tonight," he assailed, shaking his head.

She gasped loudly. Pulling back her hand, she thundered viciously, "I'd rather die than offer you anything!"

She adjusted her cover more securely, even though he had not chanced a peek below her chin even once.

"So it seems," he drawled, his gaze falling on the edge of the hill.

He was still kneeling on his knees, trying to figure out the day's event and was having difficulty believing it was her. Alone in the middle of night... jumping off the cliff... without her pack...

Something was amiss. It had to be.

He frowned in confusion.

Hermione closed her eyes to calm herself and started counting to ten. She couldn't even reach five.

Just the sight of him was more than enough to make her lose her mind and patience. And the way he was analyzing everything, she had a feeling he wouldn't let go of her that easily. Had it been someone else, _well_ , she would already be on her way by now.

But now, _now,_ now that she knew this was the great Malfoy heir, she couldn't even try to appease him by paying. _Merlin's ass!_ He might just take her in for an attempted bribery, she realized suddenly.

She could just hope against hope that he was stupid enough to hand over her wand. She could handle it from there. She knew that.

She unfurled her eyes and found him staring intently at her.

She inhaled deeply and decided to try again as she extended her hand in his direction.

"Give me my wand."

"No."

"Give me my wand!"

"No."

"I SAID, GIV-"

"You know, Granger-" he began, "-had it been someone else, I'd have been patient enough to gain my answers," he explained softly, enunciating every word as if talking to a child and raised himself up. "But since it's _you,_ you can hardly blame me for being in a hurry. Can you?" he added, brushing off mud from his knees.

"Don't interrupt me,"he snapped suddenly, when he saw her baring her teeth. "So, rather than wasting _my_ time, why don't you tell me what you were doing here in the first place?"

He spoke in such an authoritative, such a rude tone that Hermione could feel her nerves crackling.

She wanted to throttle him.

No wands. No shielding. Just some plain Muggle one-on-one.

"That's none of your concern," she retorted, raising her chin in defiance and folding her hands under her chest.

"It is," he shot back, circling her. "You see, I, unlike you, am an Auror," he stated, using his wand to clear off the slime from his robe.

"Yeah..." said Hermione, observing his telling action. "...a vain Auror," she mumbled under her breath.

"What was that?" he asked, rolling his wand in his fingers as he slowly stepped closer to her.

 _Not a smart move to call him names_ , she kicked herself in reminder. It was common knowledge that Aurors lashed out before thinking better of it. And this was Malfoy. She didn't think he needed a valid reason to lash out at her. Especially her.

For no particular reason, she remembered that punch she had gifted him for being a pompous ass back in their third year. Well, she couldn't blame herself then and she certainly couldn't blame herself now for having that strong urge to smack him again.

 _W_ _ho could fault her if this was how he behaved?_

But if he went down the memory lane and recalled that as well, well _,_ _well,_ she should be glad, really glad if he simply hexed her and left.

Not wanting his mind to wander off to that particular memory, she decided to placate him.

"Look, I was just having a bad day, alright?" she replied, not having to try hard to fake exhaustion. "I needed some fresh air. I lost my balance and fell."

Draco was watching her closely and the moment she opened her mouth, he knew he was going to be lied to. He didn't think she was ready to answer him. Yet.

No point wasting time.

He gave her a curt nod and walked towards the edge of the hill as he regarded her predicament. If he informed the Magical Law Enforcement Patrol, his time would be wasted. They would demand to know what he had been doing there. And if that bastard Jones turned up, he might even ask him to submit his apparition details.

He knew he wasn't doing anything illegal, but he didn't want another suspicion raised in his direction. What if they somehow blamed him? What if they assumed he had assaulted her? or— _Merlin's ass! she could do that, couldn't she?_ — what if she told them that he had a hand in this. _It would be an early Christmas for Jones. Bloody fucker._

The bitch was certainly capable to blame him, he considered and turned his head to his side and saw her watching him intently with that murderous hunger in her eyes. _Yup, more than capable._

However, if he didn't call the MLEP, he could get away from this. He could be home safely in his bed with Ellie massaging his calfs. _So worth it!_ But then that would mean Granger would get away. And somehow he had a feeling that she wasn't planning of returning home. Whatever her plans for tonight, he didn't think she was in a right state of mind. He couldn't exactly leave her alone.

He considered his options and decided that the smartest thing would be to send her off to someone reliable so that he could be on his way.

 _And Blaise thought he had an amazing job._

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he turned towards her. "Where do you stay?" he asked in a bored tone as he pocketed his wand and waited for her to answer.

"Why?" she asked him suspiciously, her fingers stopping midway from brushing through her hair.

"Just answer," he replied coolly, his eyes closing themselves and shutting her out for a moment.

"Yes, because I'm really gonna answer any of _your_ questions, Malfoy!" she snapped. "You do realize that I'm a lawyer myself. So you can go show your "Auror" attitude somewhere else. I'm much more versed with the law than you and your team. I choose to not answer you," she raged, her hand itching towards her missing wand.

Draco shrugged his shoulders unconcernedly and walked towards her. "Fine, then. We'll wait. Since I've just saved the life of an "important lawyer", I'm sure the entire Wizengamot would want to thank me," he retorted maliciously.

Hermione opened her mouth but shut it back almost immediately.

She didn't want her office to know.

They were all interfering fools who couldn't mind their own business. And not to mention, it would be too scandalous if word of her attempted leap reached them. As it is they were trying to "help" her from overworking by snatching away her juicy cases. They had tried many times to destroy her image and she was well aware of their several past attempts to sabotage her, but fortunately for her and unfortunately for them, it hadn't worked. So far.

Her seniors didn't want her involvement with the way things were. They were all middle aged idiots who didn't like change. They didn't want to know that with time, new legislature for the betterment of the society was an answer. Her views were often laughed at or scoffed at. They didn't think she had it in her and had assured her too many a times that it was not at all because of her Muggle ancestry. _Bastards!_

She realized that she had to play it smart as she didn't want to trigger the ill-tempered Auror into calling force, which she knew was the right thing to do. _Pity, he didn't learn that in Hogwarts,_ she snorted. Understanding that she just needed to justify herself to avoid his further interference, she peeked at him from between her hair and saw him sulking at her.

"I stay in the other part of the country," she replied, without a hint of emotion, brushing away the wet strands from her face.

He nodded again satisfied with her answer. _At least she didn't live here in this secluded area_.

It registered him that he just had to make sure that she lived with someone, for he wanted _that_ person to be held accountable for her actions.

He wasn't too keen to take credit for yet another death.

He wasn't really following her dating history, but it was hardly a secret that the golden trio's couple had called off their engagement sometime in the past. So, despite his absolute disinterest, he found himself quizzing her about her living situation.

"With?"

Hermione could feel her temper boiling now. Clenching her fists, she glared at him. "And why would I tell you that?" she challenged him.

"I meant, do you have a roommate or someone? Last I heard the lawyers were thinking of starting some kind of a protest to increase their salary," he replied, with a tiny cough.

His smug look was extremely offensive and she was finding it difficult to control her temper. Only the fact that he had two wands and she had none kept her from strangling him. "I can very well afford my own house, Malfoy," she assured him through clenched teeth. And suddenly it dawned on her.

She realized what Draco had done. He knew she would have lied if he had directly asked her about her living condition. So, he had tricked her into admitting that she lived alone. _Not so dumb, are you, Malfoy_ , she admitted grudgingly.

Maybe in some another situation, she would have acknowledged his quick wit. But right now, just the sight of him standing there as if he had all the time in the world was enough to get on her nerves.

Draco smirked, realizing that her brain was working furiously now.

Fastening the robe securely against himself, he formed a conclusion.

There was no way he could let her go to her house now. Especially if she lived alone. He decided to take her with him for the time being and then, tomorrow, he checked his watch _, today,_ first thing in the morning, he would inform Potter about this incident and let him handle her. He didn't even wish to know what happened to her then. She could jump again with Potter for all he cared. He could even give a three-worded command to time their fall.

Snorting at that happy image, his eyes found her again and he saw her lost in her own world. He clicked his fingers in front of her and snapped her out of her reverie. "Come on. Let's go," he said and motioned for her to walk and started leading the way.

"Where are we going?" she inquired curiously, rooted to the spot.

"To my place."

Hermione guffawed as she gathered her hair and laid them on her shoulder. "Aren't you smart to think I'd set foot in your house?" she jeered, and started braiding her hair.

Draco turned to look at her and replied vexedly, "I thought age would have smartened you, Granger. There's no way I can let you go to your house after this _little_ stunt of yours," he raged, pointing at the sea. "Believe me when I say, I wish I had not been here tonight and failed to notice your antics. But I did. I would have called the MLEP, but it's three am and I don't think Matthews would be too happy with me. I'd have called your golden head Potter, but at this hour, even I wouldn't poke that harridan of his wife!"

"That's no..."

Hermione was lost. What the hell was he saying? Had he lost it? She couldn't possibly go with Malfoy. Was it even safe? With him? Should she ask him to call the MLEP? Was that a sensible option?

 _No_ , her mind rejected instantly. She couldn't let her office know. There would be an interrogation. What would she say then? And Harry? She didn't want him questioning around... He had Ginny to look after.

She had to try something else.

"You-u could let me go to my parents' house," she suggested, in a quiet voice.

Draco considered her for a second. The idea of leaving her at her parents' house was extremely tempting. Not to mention, less troublesome for him. But the way she suggested it made him doubt her again.

Were they even alive?

He had no fucking idea.

And nor did he give a damn if they weren't.

But since she had mentioned them, he assumed they were. No woman would lie about her dead parents, would they? Even someone as bitchy as Granger. Remembering what he had read about them, he eyed her curiously.

"But you could erase their memory and continue with your little midnight stroll. Not the first time you have done it, I hear," he gloated.

Letting out a breath, Hermione felt herself tremble, more with fatigue than anything. Her head started pounding and she didn't know what she could say to sway him. She was in no state to argue.

Just the mention of them, brought back all the bitter memories. It was no secret that she had erased their memories during the war. But the way Malfoy mentioned it...she gulped involuntarily.

He made it sound bitter. Like it was morally wrong or something. Something like even the Dark Lord wouldn't do.

She knew she had to quickly come up with something to get rid of him, but unfortunately, her brain had deserted her and she had no idea how to handle the situation.

"Trust me, Granger," his voice reached her, bringing her back to present. "Nobody would be as happy as me to arrest you." His silky voice, his taunt infuriated her. "And _you_ of all people. Who would have thought?" he mocked her, walking in a wide circle, appraising her.

"Take all the time you need. I'm not in any hurry," he added.

Hermione eyed him with disgust and had a strong urge to tell him to go fuck himself when she saw him slowly pulling out his wand. She realised he was about to send a Patronus for calling backing up and that instantly made her prompt an answer.

" _Noooooo!"_

"Yes?"

"I'll come with you," she spat, while he smiled mirthlessly. This was just for one night, she told herself. Tomorrow she would be on her way.

"Now, aren't you smart?" Draco snickered and started walking away from her.

Hermione saw him brush his fingers through his blonde hair when he strode past her and felt like kicking him in the gut when he faked a cough. _No wand_ , she reminded herself.

"Can I at least have my wand back?" she asked his retreating figure, as politely and as smoothly and innocently as she could in her softest voice without any trace of anger.

"Yes, because I really trust you, Granger, to not curse me from behind," he chuckled right back at her.


	3. Every Night Is Different

**Edited by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Every Night Is Different**

"It's cold. My robe is wet."

Draco thought he detected a hint of blush in her voice. He angled his body to answer her and was taken aback as he actually noticed her for the first time tonight.

 _Her hair_. Her wild, bushy brown mane, which had become her signature hairstyle, was no longer untamed but fell lightly on her right shoulder in little rivulets. It was slightly longer than how she had worn it in school, making it more bearable to look at. Those big brown eyes still had that warm glow, but if anything they appeared more hazel than brown. He noticed that she still had that look of resolution in her features which he recalled witnessing so many times in the past. Her face appeared flushed as she tightly held her robe and rambled on about some drying spell—he wasn't sure.

Tiny drops of rain were falling on her face and he saw one particular drop slither down her chin and drop through the opening of her robe as his eyes automatically followed its trail.

His gaze next fell on her soaked clothing—her full sleeved, figure hugging robe was snugly fit to her body in all the right places. _Merlin. A silver lining in this bizarre night._

Draco felt her eyes on him as she nervously shifted her weight from one foot to another and cleared her throat. He immediately became aware of his unschooled ogling and shook his head to clear his mind and cast the necessary spell. Hermione's clothes immediately became warm and toasty and she sighed in contentment.

He turned away instantly and they both traipsed in silence for a while, making their way across wild hedges and sod with neither making any attempt to make small talk.

Draco quickly crossed the unsteady part of the hill and stood there wiping his forehead as he waited for Hermione to catch up with him.

"You'll have to hold my hand, Granger. For side-along apparition," he informed her when she finally reached him.

"Do we...have to...go to your house?" Hermione asked him in between her pants.

"I don't have the time to sit here and chitchat with you. The sooner we go home, the sooner I leave you alone," he snapped.

"I can't...I really—" Hermione faltered, as she unwittingly stepped back. She didn't even realize that her hand had flown up to her collarbone and she was absentmindedly stroking the skin between her breast and the hollow of her heart.

She couldn't go back there. It had too many memories. Too many nightmares. Just the thought of that place gave her worst case of collywobbles she had ever experienced.

She involuntarily gulped as she recalled Ron's distant yelling...her own high-pitched screams echoed in her ears as she remembered Bellatrix torturing her...the memory of that sharp knife plunging into Dobby flashed in front of her and she urgently shut her eyes to push away that image.

She felt weak. Exhausted.

"You bloody well can't make any dema-" Draco rounded on her when he saw her face turning pale.

"Are you alright?" he politely asked her and was in front of her in a flash, keeping an acceptable distance between them.

"Ye-yeah...I'm fine. You?" Hermione croaked, as she raised her palm to rub her face.

Draco ignored her question and stood still to observe her. _Such a player,_ he thought, as his eyes narrowed in disgust. _If she thought he would go lenient on her by bringing that up, she was sooo mistaken._ He was about to tell her to stop her horrible acting when the image of her lying on the floor, all bloodied and wounded, flared in his mind. He couldn't shake that feeling of uneasiness that slowly crept all over him like a Devil's Snare—reminding him. Tormenting _him_.

"We are not going to Malfoy Manor, Granger. I'd never take you there aft- after…" he struggled with his words.

He let out a heavy sigh and slowly walked away from her. He felt the need to tell her. Even if she was acting—even if she was faking it. Deep down, he knew she wasn't. He wasn't sure why, but her expression made him want to assure her this one time.

It wasn't a daily occurrence to see an old schoolmate being tormented in front of you. And if he could ever erase something from his mind, he would choose that memory. Salazar knew how badly he wanted to forget that. And yet he never did it. For it reminded him of his mistakes. His decisions. And if anything, he _needed_ that reminder.

He had never voiced it out loud, but he had recognized them that day. When asked, he had given evasive answers, saying "they could be…I don't know them that well." He had been scared. He had been scared for them and for himself and his family. If the Dark Lord found out the truth about his betrayal, his family would have been straightaway slaughtered. And he couldn't do that to them. He wouldn't. But he couldn't do that to those three either.

He took a deep breath and spoke to her as his face scrunched in pain. "I don't live there anymore," he clarified, his voice sounding hoarse even to him. "Call it the perks of being rich..." he trailed off as Hermione peeked at him from between her fingers.

"I've many other places to call home," he added as an afterthought, the image of his cell in Azkaban instantly popping in his mind.

Leaving her at that, he started walking again.

"Of—of course," Hermione replied quietly.

They reached the spot Draco thought was suitable for apparition and Hermione glanced at him in despair.

Worrying that she might argue again, he roughly clasped her wrist to Apparate them and they both gasped. He was sure he felt something move in his body when he touched her. It was as if he felt a second of warmth soar through him before feeling her cold wrist under his skin. His astounded eyes found hers and he was surprised to see his expression mirrored in hers. But before they could dwell more on it, Draco had Apparated them.

He let go of her immediately when they landed and started shouting for his elf as he moved around the house. His tiny elf appeared a second later, rubbing sleep away from her face.

"Welcome home, Master. How can Ellie serve you tonight? Should I fetch your bottle?" the elf squeaked as she curiously peeked at Hermione.

"No!" Draco quickly replied. "El, I'd like you to meet Granger. She's...a...umm...she's my...she'll be staying with us tonight," he grimaced as Hermione cast him an annoyed look.

The little elf bobbed her head as she attentively listened to Draco and smiled genuinely at Hermione with a little curtsy. "Ellie is pleased to meet you, Miss. I is sure you'd be most comfortable here with Ellie to look after you."

Hermione smiled at the petite creature. She was a cute little thing. She appeared extremely clean, wore a tiny gray apron and had a welcoming smile on her face.

"Thank you. I hope you're well."

Ellie gazed up at her Master with adoring eyes, making Hermione snort. "I is very well, Miss. Thank you for asking. Should Ellie show Miss to her room, Master?" She turned to ask Draco.

"Yeah, El. Do that," Draco replied, lodging his hands in his pockets and looking straight ahead when the witch tried to catch his eye. He'd be damned is she decided to argue again. She should be grateful that he had saved her ungrateful arse.

Chewing her lower lip, Hermione glanced at Draco, who looked thoroughly bored as he waited for her to move. She sighed with resignation and started following the elf.

Draco crashed on the closest chaise lounge when he heard the upstairs bedroom door shut and took long breaths.

Raising his left hand in front of his eyes, he observed his palm. It looked exactly the same to him. Even his faded scar looked the same. But it had been so freakin' cold when he'd held her tiny wrist. It was as if he had touched ice. _Maybe—maybe that's why he had felt a little tingling sensation soar through his fingers_ , he told himself.

Running his hand through his messy hair, he took a deep breath. There were many things to consider.

He knew Hermione Granger wasn't someone who'd be easily intimidated. However, his interaction today with her had made him wonder if she had changed. She obviously still had a temper that could match his own, but he had seen her worry not once but twice tonight.

For one thing, of all the people he knew, Hermione Granger was the last person he could think of who would commit suicide. Of course, she could drive any sound-minded person insane to the point where he'd himself jump down the Astronomy Tower, but that was an altogether different topic.

Secondly, she'd been scared when he mentioned Potter. Did he miss something between them? Not that he had bothered to notice before, but wasn't Potter happily married to Weasley, with all the kids she was popping out? So what was Granger's problem? That required some serious thought. So he put it aside in the back of his mind.

Thirdly, when he mentioned home, she was terrified. Well, almost.

Did she still remember that incident after all these years? Surely it wasn't a happy memory even for her. So shouldn't she have forgotten it by now? But again, who was he to judge. Draco reminded himself as he slowly got up and made his way to his chamber. Last time he checked, he wasn't the one who was being tortured by his aunt Bella.

Hermione followed the tiny elf into a room and observed her working the fire and candles as she babbled on about the chill that was setting in. Pulling a chair from the writing table, she sat and looked around her with curiosity. It was definitely a beautiful room, Hermione noted with a pang of jealousy. It appeared extremely warm and cozy, but nothing ostentatious, which was surprising, knowing who its owner was.

Her eyes fell on the king-sized bed and despite herself she longed to rest on it. She saw a wardrobe and a dressing table on either side of the room and wondered if the adjoining door would lead her towards the shower room. Thinking about how a bath might refresh her, Hermione sat rather cozily as the warmth of the fire lulled her.

A few minutes later, Hermione came out of her reverie as she realized that the elf had turned quiet and was waiting for her to respond.

"Sorry, I was just admiring how beautiful this room is."

"Not at all, Miss. Ellie hopes Miss liked her room. If Miss wishes, Ellie could change the colour of the wallpaper," Ellie replied, enthusiastically.

"No, no. It's...um...good. I like the way it is," she replied, looking at the cream curtains for the first time.

Ellie beamed with pleasure and clasped her hands. "Master would be pleased to hear that, Miss. He personally decorated this house."

"What? Malfoy decorated this room?" Hermione asked her incredulously. She had a difficult time picturing him choosing bedcovers or whatever other furnishings were required for a house. As far as memory served, he was someone who wouldn't even lift a finger to wipe his own arrogant mouth, let alone design. She imagined him lazing on the sofa as Ellie fed him some grapes while he snapped orders at his decorators. Now that was an image she could clearly imagine.

"Not just this room, Miss. The entire house," Ellie corrected her. "You see, Master, wanted everything according to his taste. So he wouldn't even let Madam help him."

That was even worse, Hermione decided as she shook her head in disbelief. She was about to ask if her Master was a part time decorator, when Ellie's words altered her train of thoughts.

She assumed the elf meant Narcissa Malfoy when she said "Madam," and wanted to know if she and her husband Lucius resided here as well.

"Err...are we the only ones in the house, Ellie?" Hermione casually asked her, feigning interest in the intricate design of the desk.

"Yes, Miss. It's just us."

Hermione nodded and let out a breath as her shoulders dropped in relief.

"Will Miss be wanting anything else tonight?"

"No, I'm good. I'll see you tomorrow," Hermione replied, as she rubbed her eyes with the backs of her hands.

"Good night, Miss," the elf wished her and Disapparated with a flick of her fingers.

Hermione dropped her head at the desk and closed her eyes.

She knew it wasn't safe to sleep here, but she didn't have an option. She would have tried sneaking out, but she knew it was a futile effort. She would have bet her Order of Merlin that Malfoy must have set some extra enchantments to prevent her from running away. And besides, she couldn't leave without her wand.

Now that she realized it, she actually was tired.

Yawning widely, she tied her hair in a messy bun and dropped her robe at the nearest table. Climbing inside the covers, Hermione rested on her back and let out a comfortable sigh as her eyes automatically closed with fatigue.

Her last thought before falling asleep was that Draco Malfoy definitely had good taste in décor.


	4. Much Too Much

**Edited by** **:** ** _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Much Too Much**

It had been months since Hermione had slept this peacefully. Her busy schedule with the constant demands of her clients hardly gave her any time for proper rest. She lazed around in the bed and a happy moan escaped her lips. _Just another minute_ , she told herself and snuggled the soft pillow. _Soft? Wait a minute._ _Her pillow was anything but soft._ _Fuck!_ She scrambled out of the bed as she remembered yesterday's events and started searching for her robe instead.

She was late. She was horribly late for work. She didn't even need to look at the clock to know that she was going to miss her appointment.

Until yesterday, she wouldn't have cared to see what happened with her case. But today, now that she found herself very much alive and competent, she knew she'd have to work her best. After all, she was answerable to them. People depended on her. Had she been dead...well, they would have depended on someone else then.

Quickly donning her robe, she cleaned herself in the adjoining bathroom and went down. She was thinking of ways to contact her partner, Anthony Goldstein, when she saw and heard the little elf singing to herself as she cleaned the chandelier. She marveled at the beautiful crystal ornament until Ellie saw her and Apparated straight in front of her in an instant.

"Good evening, Miss. Did you have a good sleep?"

"Yes, umm...it's Ellie, right?" Hermione asked her and the elf happily bobbed her head. "Listen, can you tell me where Malfoy is? I need my wand. I need to go to work," she added, checking around her to see if she could find the said wizard slouched somewhere.

"Master is at work, Miss. He left within a couple of hours after you were home."

 _Shite!_

"Okay, did he give you my wand to hand it to me?"

"Ellie would never dare touch any wand," Ellie replied, looking offended as she took a step back from Hermione distancing herself from the witch's notions.

"No, no...I meant, if he asked you to return it to me. You see, Malfoy took it from me yesterday. But it's mine actually and I kind of wanted it now," Hermione tried explaining. She didn't mean to scare the elf when it appeared that she was the only one who was able to actually help her.

"I'm afraid, Miss, that Master didn't give Ellie any instructions to return you your wand," the elf answered, looking skeptical about the topic at hand.

Hermione decided that she had to take the matter in her own hands now. Who had the time to wait for Malfoy? Certainly not her.

Looking determined, Hermione began. "Look, I need to go to his room," she said, as she peered around her to find the door to his living quarters. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind. We're school friends after all," Hermione all but vomited the last words. She didn't think it would bode well with the elf if she told her that she wanted to snoop around.

"I'm sure you are, Miss. But Master has requested you to stay here until he returns," Ellie politely replied as she bowed to her. "He even asked Ellie to cook you some dinner," she happily added, glad at finding a safe topic.

"I can't wait that long, Ellie. I need to be at work," Hermione replied, turning around to look for something that could help her get back to work. She saw the fireplace but knew she wouldn't be able to use it. Wizards often blocked their Floo network to discourage entrance to unwanted guests. She even considered hiring a muggle cab. But she didn't even know where he stayed and how far it was from the Ministry. _And how would she even book a cab from a pureblood's home? Telepathy?_

Running her hands through her hair in frustration, she turned away from the mantle and her eyes fell on the ancient wall clock and she let out a loud swear scaring the hell out of Ellie.

It was _6.30 pm!_ She had slept the day away. What was she going to do? She had slept like the dead for more than _10_ hours! And why did she suddenly feel that Malfoy had something to do with it? _That_ _asshole._

She recalled Ellie wishing her a 'good evening' and it didn't even strike her when the elf mentioned dinner. Her stomach growled in longing at that thought but she ignored it. Imagining Draco choking on his food instead, she turned towards Ellie with fire in her eyes. "Ellie, when will Malfoy be home?" she snarled.

The scared elf covered her eyes with her petite hands and peeked at Hermione from between her fingers. Taking one look at Hermione's murderous glare, she started trembling. "M-master will be home when he w-wishes, Miss. It is not Ellie's place to ask questions," she stammered, taking a tentative step back.

The elf's reaction made Hermione's heart drop. She felt ashamed for her outburst and closed her eyes as she tried to calm her racing heartbeat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," she apologised, keeping the edge out of her voice.

Ellie smiled uncertainly and bowed. "Not at all, Miss. Ellie understands that Miss is in a hurry to leave, plus hungry and missing her Master. Hence, Miss is getting angry. Ellie understands it all, Miss."

Hermione opened her mouth to tell her how much exactly she was missing her Master when her stomach growled again in its demand for food.

"Ellie will serve some snacks for now. For it is almost dinner time and Ellie knows Miss would want to dine with Master," the little elf informed her with a tiny nod.

"Thank you," Hermione replied with a false smile to placate her. "And also, would you be kind enough to let me know when your '' _dear''_ Master returns?" she asked her sarcastically. "You see, I wan-"

" _Dear Master?_ Wow, Granger, you _do_ know your place. What do you say? Your room or mine?" Draco Malfoy's voice mocked her.

Hermione was beyond shocked with the retort she heard. She spun around to see him dusting soot off his robe and cheekily laughing at her. Grinding her teeth, she picked up the nearest vase she could lay her hands on and threw it, aiming at his head.

"Manners, Granger," Draco warned, avoiding getting hit by flicking the vase aside with his wand.

"How dare you?"

He merely shrugged and lifted his gaze to study her, keeping a firm grip on his wand. She looked spitting angry and thoroughly pissed. One wrong word and he'd have to cast a strong shield charm between them to ward off her further attacks. Her eyes appeared less tired but well rested as she stood there glaring at him with her hands on her hips.

He started walking towards the stairs and when he reached her, he looked seriously in her eyes and calmly said, "Let's eat first. You and I, we both know that we need to talk."

Without waiting for her reply, he continued towards his room and only when he had closed the door behind him did he smile.


	5. Searching For Clarity

**Edited by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Searching For Clarity**

 _Merlin!_ He missed riling her. Her expressions were so fresh. He could see every emotion in her eyes.

She didn't trust him. Obviously. But she didn't look at him with disgust either. She didn't seem to be sickened by the mere sight of him. It was just plain old rivalry between them.

Whistling to a sappy tune —which was surprising even to himself, for he hardly ever was in a good spirit, let alone good enough to whistle —he quickly changed his clothes, checked that her wand was still hidden where he had last kept it, and went downstairs to the dining area.

As he entered, he saw her surveying the intricate detailing of the pillars with an undisguised interest.

She couldn't keep herself from admiring the room. As much as she hated him, Hermione had to admit that he had a certain class when it came to luxury. Walking towards the table, she pulled out a chair, noticing the fine cutlery already arranged for their dinner.

Making herself comfortable, she brushed her dress with the back of her hands and observed her surroundings.

She was in a Tuscan-style Mediterranean rectangular dining room. The candle holder hanging from the ceiling was slightly lowered to cast a pleasant glow. She suddenly became aware in dispirit that although she earned a few galleons more or less than him, he definitely invested better than her- for the exquisitely engraved pillars at the four corners, certainly added to the room's appeal. It made her want to lean across and stroke it, to feel the smooth- rough texture beneath her fingers.

Her attention turned towards the wall on the left which was covered with full-size French windows as it gently blew her hair, enough to make her feel contented, which was bizarre...in this already bizarre evening.

Hearing his heavy footsteps, she turned her head in his direction and found him looking amused for no particular reason and her complacent feeling disappeared, like a balloon losing air.

Draco couldn't suppress a chuckle when he saw her glaring at him as he sat for dinner. He rang the tiny bell from the table and sniffed appreciatively when food appeared on their plates.

" _Bon appétit_ , Granger," Draco said, as he waited for her to begin.

Hermione scowled at his sudden display of manners and pulled the dish towards her rather forcefully. She realized she was famished and quickly dove in.

He seemed to be hungry too as he didn't even glance her way.

Yesterday, she had been so surprised to see him that she hardly paid him any attention. Now that he was in front of her, she couldn't help but notice how different he looked.

His sleek blond hair was no longer gelled to perfection. It lightly fell forwards on his forehead. His features had become more pointed if anything and he looked paler than usual. She noticed that he was sporting a light five o'clock shadow on his chin and lower cheek, which totally suited his dark profile, making him look _haughty_.

His gray eyes still had that cold stare that she remembered he often threw at people. She couldn't help but remark that there was something different about his eyes. They looked haunted...dark...mysterious, even. And she felt herself losing in them...in their depth...

Draco didn't know how to approach the subject. He had not said a word to 'the living wonder' when he had met him at work, for he remembered how worried she had been when he had mentioned Potter. She certainly had some reservations when it came to him and that intrigued him. Not to mention made him a bit happy as well.

Unless he knew more, he wasn't going to say anything about it to anyone. He was sort of looking forward to hearing what more atrocious lies Granger was going to come up with. But deep inside he also knew that there was something more to it. And knowing Granger, she was not going to make it easy.

He accidentally speared the piece of steak he had just cut more forcefully than intended and moved it to his mouth when he sensed her eyes on him.

He slowly elevated his head and saw her surveying him. He raised his eyebrow in reply and mouthed, 'Like what you see?'

She visibly blanched and went back to her food avoiding him completely.

After finishing the full course meal which surprisingly didn't take much time, Draco led her to the study.

"So, Granger—" he began, as he sat on his writing desk chair. "—now that you are well rested and fed—for free, I might add—why don't you start talking?"

Hermione's face contorted with hatred at his words. "You had no right to make me fall asleep for so many hours. I had a very important meeting today and cause of _your_ interference, I missed it!" She poked his chest as she raged and stormed back to sit across him.

A muscle twitched in his jaw as he threw his signature look of disgust. "Tell me, Granger. Have you invented a new stone or something which was going to keep you alive after your little fall yesterday?" he lashed out.

Crossing her leg over the other, Hermione snapped at him. "I told you. I lost my bal—"

"Don't test my patience," he interrupted, coming in his Auror-mode. "You didn't fucking lose your balance," he growled.

"How dare you talk to me like this?" she hissed, her eyes burning in distaste.

"I'll talk to you any damn way I want. I don't give a gobshite on how big a lawyer you are or how well you're connected or how many Orders of Merlin are stuck in your—" his face scrunched as he struggled to find a better word to use in present company. "— _purse!_ I want to know what you were doing. And believe me when I say I have my ways of finding out."

He simply looked at his wand, which in itself was peeking from his robe— to check for his next target, to scare her into answering.

Her mouth twisted dangerously to taunt him. "Is that the best you can do?" she asked, ruining his effort of intimidation.

Draco narrowed his eyes and decided to dismiss her insult this one time. "What were you doing there?"

"I wanted some alone time."

 _Fine_.

"Why did you jump?"

"I didn't jump! I lost my footing on a—"

"I was behind you the whole time," he replied instantly to her lie which made her eyes widen with fear. "So tell me, why did you jump?"

Hermione shrugged indifferently, schooling her features.

Her slip of reaction didn't go unnoticed by Draco. He decided to ignore it for the time-being and chose to tackle her in a calm manner. After all, she was _Madam Granger,_ Harry Potter's beloved friend. He couldn't risk losing his temper with her when she was loved so much by their world. _Traitors. All of them._

"Are you in danger? Are you being threatened?"

Rolling her eyes, Hermione folded her arms in front of her chest and mocked him. "Why Malfoy, worried about my safety, are you?"

Draco's fingers twitched to hex her. He hated it when people still thought the worst of him. Had he not proven himself? After so many years? Why couldn't they just accept him for who he was now? Would he never be able to redeem himself?

Ignoring those thoughts, he decided to answer her.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not," he grunted, stretching his back in the process as if this was the least interesting topic to him.

"So why?"

In reply, he opened his desk drawer, withdrew his Auror badge, and placed it on the desk, making sure that it faced her. He repeated his question, rolling his eagle paper weight on the desk.

She drew her lower lip between her teeth as she regarded his calm manner. That's why she hated him. The way he abused his power. As if he was above everyone else. As if he gave a fuck if her life was in danger. But just because he was an "Auror," she'd have to humour him.

"No, nothing like that," she replied, when it became evident to her that he won't let it rest.

Closing her eyes she sighed and said, "I just got tired of my life, you can say."

"And yet here you are within twenty-four hours, _dying_ to go to your job," Draco snapped.

"It was a moment of weakness," she answered. Quietly. And calmly, making him snort in disbelief.

Hermione didn't care whether or not he believed her. It was her life. She was an adult. She wasn't trying to harm anyone. She had agreed to come to his home because he had her wand. As soon as she got it, she'd be on her way.

"You do realize, Granger, that I can hand you over and let the MLEP do the work. This isn't my job. You know that, don't you?" he asked her, leaning further in his chair and breaking her chain of thoughts.

"Yes," she returned after one full minute. Attempted suicide was a punishable attempt. She knew that.

"So don't make this easy for me by making me call them. I'm sure Rita Skeeter would soon find out. And she'd go bonkers running this story."

He pretended to write in the air. "Topmost lawyer tries committing suicide! Blames ex-flame Harry Potter for betraying her feelings."

Hermione didn't say a word. She knew what would happen if the news came out. Her entire reputation was at stake.

Bending her head, she scratched her forehead and avoided his direct and penetrating gaze.

"I just have to call Matthews and the entire world would know. You don't want that, do you?" he asked, looking over his steepled fingers.

"Are you threatening me, Malfoy?" she queried, eyeing his reaction.

"No, I'm making you understand why you should take me seriously," he reminded her as he waited for her to fathom the gravity of the situation.

Hermione didn't outwardly react to his threat and they both continued to glare at each other.

"You don't want Potter to know," he stated after a while. "Why is that?"

"I don't wish to bother him."

"And Weasley?"

"Same reason."

Another minute passed.

"Did someone…" he voiced, looking awkward and uncomfortable. _He had to know._

Hermione peeked at him in confusion.

Clearing his throat, he started shuffling some papers on the desk purposefully— avoiding her gaze. "Were you... ahem, I mean to say, um...did anyone try to force—"

"God, no! It's nothing like that," Hermione replied with a groan.

He nodded almost immediately in relief. He adjusted his back and threw the papers to one side.

"Are you facing any problems in your professional life? I don't mean to insult you," he quickly added, as he saw Hermione open her mouth. "I mean any particular client or colleague."

"No."

Hermione jutted the chair towards the desk and leaned forward. "Look, Malfoy, I appreciate this. But it was just a bad phase for me."

She knew she had to douse his suspicions if she was to get him off her back. She didn't doubt for a second that he'd be interested in keeping her around. Their hatred for each other was well-known. Her assurance that it was a weak moment should be acceptable enough for him.

Draco considered her for a moment as he stroked his chin and nodded. "I'll take your word on this. But I want you to live with someone for a while. Friend, colleague, ex-boyfriend, anyone! I don't want you to live alone for sometime. Am I clear?"

"Well, I'd have gone to my parents' house last night itself if you hadn't been so adamant on kidnapping me!" Hermione snapped. This was ridiculous. He was asking her to live with someone when she had herself told him that she'd go stay with her parents.

"No Muggles, Granger. Go live with some wizarding family."

"That's preposterous! You don't get to tell me what I should do. Do take offence, Malfoy, because it's none of your business," she announced, glaring at him.

Draco shrugged. "Fine, we'll go to Potter's then. Let him decide."

"That is not necessary. I told you I'm not suicidal," Hermione replied, shaking her head. She didn't understand why he was so keen to send her over to Harry's.

"Either that or you attend a ten-day suicide prevention program with Healer Davis in Mungo's."

"I don't see why _you_ are getting concerned," Hermione jibed as she fidgeted on the chair.

"I'm not," Draco answered instantly. "I just don't want this thing to somehow get tagged to me and get blamed for being at the wrong place. With you."

His honest reply of he trying to save his own neck was the only thing that made sense to her.

"Who should I go and stay with?"

"That's really not my problem," Draco coolly replied as he leaned back on his chair. "As long as you are off the streets and with some sane company, I couldn't care less."

"Sane company?! What is that supposed to mean?" She was up in an instant as she challenged him.

He simply glared at her, not at all bothered by her outburst.

"I can't," Hermione replied after a while.

"Go to Potter's. You and that redhead always got along in school. You don't even have to tell them the reason. Just say that your house is infected with pixies or something. I'm sure that big oaf friend of yours could even provide you some."

Hermione stared icily at him and said, "If you mean Hagrid —Merlin help me, I'll... Just shut up!"

Rolling his eyes, he ignored her loyalty towards the giant. _Stupid Gryffindors._

She sat back down when she realized he had been joking.

Ginny and Harry had small kids. She didn't think it was safe to go there. Ron's wife Luna was pregnant with their second child. Going there to live with them was like inviting more trouble. For a second she had a sudden idea of accepting his demands for the sake of it and to simply go on her own way.

She knew Draco had never set foot in Harry's home and she didn't think he would break his record just to check on her. But there was a risk of him asking Harry since they worked together. And he would know whether she had listened to him or not. It was all too risky. Confusing. And not at all his business. It would raise some serious questions and accusations if she was caught.

 _Why the fucking hell does he care where I stay?_ Hermione cursed.

"I can't, Malfoy," Hermione tried again. "I can't tell you the reason. But I really can't go and live there."

"Then I guess we have a problem," Draco growled, his eyes turning into slits.

"I guess we do."


	6. When It Isn't Like It Should Be

**Edited by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **When It Isn't** **Like It Should Be**

Hermione was tossing and turning in her bed as she was in a raging temper. _What was his problem? Who the hell did he think he was to order her around like that?_

Although she was internally glad that he had stopped her from doing something really crazy, she couldn't help but be angry with him.

He never said how he had found her. Or, what _he_ had been doing on that stupid cliff. He expected her to simply accept his word that he was standing behind her the whole time.

 _Liar._

Throwing the quilt aside rather forcefully, which harshly found its mark on the floor, Hermione sat on the bed and demurely folded her hands.

She had been extremely foolish last night, she reflected, frowning at the wall in front of her. She had not at all been thinking straight. Her grave mistake—a small, but lethal one —had almost cost her her own life.

And why, Merlin, why? Why did it have to be Draco Malfoy who saved her? Why couldn't it be someone with half a brain? Someone like... _Like?_ Cormac McLaggen maybe?

Tsking at the situation she was caught in and shaking her head for even considering encountering that particular ogre, she got up from the bed and started traipsing around the room, purposefully stomping the soft ivory comforter on her way.

There was no point crying over spilt potion now, Hermione regarded. The damage had been done. She was caught for a punishable offence _and_ lost her wand for refusing to cooperate with a Ministry official.

She visibly cringed as she remembered who the said Ministry official was. She was doomed. She knew it. And so did the person who had caught her.

Hermione knew that she had to leave Draco's house, as quickly as possible, as their last "discussion" had not at all went well. He had refused to listen to reason and had simply left the room leaving her talking to thin air. She had argued with him that it wasn't his right to confiscate her wand, (it absolutely was his right according to Clause Eight, Paragraph Three of the Decree, but she'd rather eat Hagrid's homemade paperweight cookies than admit that to him, especially when it was a matter of her own wand) except for the mad gleam burning in his eyes which had shut her up. She wouldn't put it past him to hex her when she was wandless.

She knew Draco wasn't trying to ' _save her pretty little neck,'_ as he had mentioned earlier. He just wanted to bully her.

If she could just lay her hands on her wand, or any wand for that matter, she could get out of here. And mind her own business. Which was certainly not here. And surely Draco Malfoy can go fuck himself then. She couldn't care less.

It might be worth a shot, Hermione considered, nibbling on her bottom lip, to sneak under cover of darkness to reclaim her wand. With any luck, she could tweak his memory a bit and be on her way. If anything, she could even make him give an excuse on her behalf for not reporting to work. Who would question an Auror? Especially someone with such a dark background. Certainly not her department. That thought cheered her a bit and she mentally pumped her fist in jubilation.

Walking towards the table in a confident gait, she pulled out a chair and after seating herself, rubbed her palms together in excitement. She had a plan. To free herself. And she was not going to let anyone— least of all that particular idiot— boss her. And if her plan involved taking few chances, well, so what? Hadn't she faced his crazy aunt and his equally crazy father? Together? And then, what was life without a few risks, after all?

All she needed was a wand and his cooperation by sleeping soundly. And for starters, she wouldn't even mind using his wand. She would take whatever she got.

After mentally calculating the probability of her success rate and feeling proud of her master plan, she wheeled her chair on the spot and looked at the walls around her to check the time. As if detecting her need, an owl on a wooden clock hooted quarter past eleven in reply.

 _Still early,_ Hermione mused. She didn't exactly know Malfoy's sleeping habits, but guessed it was too soon for him to be sound asleep.

For her plan to work, Hermione knew that she had to be absolutely sure that he was dead to the world. Dreaming and all that shit. Not even slightly awake. Not even drowsy. She wanted him in his deep slumber. One mistake from her side and she would be in the hands of the MLEP, _if_ she was lucky.

She was literally planning to break into a snake's nest. And this was not an ordinary snake. This was a blond snake. An annoying, overbearing, blond snake.

For nearly half an hour, Hermione thought of alternate courses she could use to get out of the spot, as she didn't quite feel confident when it came to actually carrying out her plan. She considered stealing her way out, but knew it'd be futile as there was no point crawling out as she still didn't have her wand.

War or no-war, roaming around unarmed alone at midnight was a foolish thing to do. And Ron might perhaps say that she had become reckless, but she most certainly was not dumb.

Finding herself with no other choice, she started removing her shoes, taking support from the table next to her. Not wanting any distraction for even a second, she smartly tied her hair up, keeping it away from her spirited face.

She walked towards the candle stand and extinguished the lit ones by blowing at them forcefully in one breath to make it appear as though she were sleeping and also to get accustomed to the darkness she knew she'd find in his chamber.

His room, she remembered, was situated at the extreme end of the corridor detaching him from the rest of the house. Hermione realised that she'd have to tiptoe all the way to his room, and was glad that she had removed her noisy footwear beforehand.

She was about to turn towards his chamber when she remembered her other jailer and knew that if she was caught by her, she'd prove to be equally dangerous. Hitting her forehead in mild annoyance, she forced herself to make sure that the elf was out of the picture.

Blindly walking in the darkness towards the door, Hermione imagined Ellie's squeaky little voice complaining to Draco in that worshiping tone, _Miss was sneaking to your room, Master, when Ellie caught her_.

 _Annoying little pest._

Soundlessly opening her bedroom door as slowly and as patiently as possible, she invaded the peaceful stairway. She recalled seeing the elf going under the stairs sometime earlier and assumed that part to be her personal living space.

She discreetly descended the steps and quietly paddled her way to reach the gloomy area behind the landing. Seeing a tiny flap for a door, she looked around, to confirm that she wasn't been watched by a stalking Malfoy.

After making sure that she was alone, Hermione decided that it would be better to not peek inside and risk waking the lesser of two devils. She didn't want to risk anything now. Now, when she had decided to execute her plan. Especially since she was alone in darkness, hunting an elf. She needed her luck. All of her luck. And knew she'd be needing it more when she entered his den.

She was this close to praying. And she wasn't even a religious girl. _Fuck. Hell._ And all cause of one Draco Malfoy who decided to take interest in her life. _Bloody fucking hell._

Shaking her head to concentrate on the problem at hand, Hermione realised that she wasn't well versed with elfish sleeping behaviour.

In her frustration, she let out a long controlled breath and almost turned her knuckles white as she stood there thinking of her next move.

As if remembering an easy answer to a difficult question, her eyes sparked with brilliance as she decided to use the age old method instead. She tiptoed closer towards the entrance and putting her ear on the door instead, listened to her quiet snores. _Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out._ And so it continued. For almost a minute. Or more. She had lost count.

Listening to her nasal droning until she was sure she wouldn't be disturbed by the elf, she warily returned to her room, satisfied that the elf wouldn't rise anytime soon.

At half past one when her patience had started weakening, and after counting off the petals on the curtains for the eleventh time correctly, Hermione quietly made her way to his room.

As her aid, Hermione had placed her own hair pin securely in her pocket as an assistive tool, to help her in the mission. Wrapping her fingers over her pocket to feel confident, she prayed to all the Gods she knew for the door to not be locked. She didn't think she was that talented to use a hairpin to unlock a door. That particular strategy, she regretfully admitted, was a speciality of the Weasley twins.

Luckily for her, the need for her hand job did not arise, as the door opened as soon as she turned the door knob. Softly opening it further, Hermione slightly peeped in.

She didn't know the setting of his room yet, so she waited quietly, for her eyes to get accustomed to the darkness, slightly lighter than her room.

She saw the outlines of his bed horizontally placed in the centre of the room and was even able to make out his silhouette on the bed. She quickly scanned the room for any lurking surprises and started crawling towards the bed when she was sure her coast was clear.

Fortunately for her, Draco seemed to be sleeping on his side facing the wall and not the door. She observed him for a few seconds and became aware of his golden blond hair peeping out of the quilt, shining in the moonlight. Noticing the steady rise and fall of his shoulders and back, Hermione felt a sudden, yet strong urge to smack his head and run, when she reminded herself the purpose of her visit.

She had decided that it was safer to find his wand than look for hers in his room. It was a risk, she was willing to take, and if luck was on her side, she'd find it before he could even properly snarl at her.

Hermione knew that most wizards kept their wands on the bedside table or under the pillow as was her own habit. Some witches preferred to keep it in their cupboards to discourage children from using theirs.

Since Draco lived alone, Hermione was sure she'd find his wand somewhere near him and without wasting any time, she started looking for it. She searched for it at the night table, in his side drawers and around his sleeping body. When she didn't find it anywhere, she snooped under the bed to see if he had placed it there. He hadn't.

She decided to check under his pillow next and slowly and carefully, she put her left hand under it. She was about to retrieve her hand and start looking around his room instead, when her fingers accidentally brushed a hard object. She felt something wooden and long beneath her fingers and immediately thanked her lucky stars.

Steadily catching hold of his wand, (or maybe it was hers. Was Malfoy really that stupid?) she started reclaiming her hand as mutely as possible without disturbing his resting head. Once she had her hand completely out, she took a firm grip on it, and immediately gave a non-verbal command of _Muffliato_.

As soon as she waved the wand, it gave a loud quack and a barnyard duck emerged from its tip, making her yelp and drop the wand, in her scare.

She loudly fell on her backside, with an indelicate _Urgh!_ losing her balance. She was so shocked by the wand that she thought her heart had traveled all the way to her throat. Her heartbeats intensified and she took deep breaths to contain herself.

Remembering that she wasn't alone, she quickly turned her head towards his sleeping form and was most relieved to find him still in his deep slumber.

Thanking her stars again tonight and cursing the Weasley monsters, Hermione decided to clamber her way out.

She didn't think she had the heart to hear a squeaking hamster or a gobbledygooking goblin next from some other wand, if at all she found another.

Kneading her bruised bum, she turned around on all fours and started crawling towards the door when her attention was drawn to a pair of legs emerging from the door she had just trespassed from and she froze, mid crawl.

Draco Malfoy was standing behind the door she had so confidently entered from.

He had a wand —most likely the real one— in his hand and he did not look happy.

He looked bloody furious.


	7. In The Midnight Hour

**Edited by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **In The Midnight Hour**

"Looking for something?" Draco hissed as he came out of his hiding place.

If she felt that her heartbeat had intensified after that horrid wand show, it was nothing to what she felt now. The expression on his face for all she knew could have been carved in stone.

He was livid.

Kicking the door shut behind him, Draco stood in front of her with crossed arms, making her want to go back in time and erase these last few minutes.

She dragged herself up by pushing back on her thighs and dared to look at him.

"I wasn't expecting you for at least an hour, Granger. Getting _desperate_ , are we?" he taunted her.

Hermione was well and truly fucked. She knew it. He was going to throw her out on the streets. But that's what she would have done herself, if he hadn't been so adamant about some stupid suicide prevention programme. It was totally his fault. Who asked him to meddle in her affairs?

She refused to back down. She refused to show her feelings. She breathed a breath and confessed, "I shouldn't have done that."

"You bet," Draco growled.

"I just wanted my wand. I wasn't trying to harm you, Malfoy. I'm sure you know that," she tried explaining, quietly retreating from him.

He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly which made her further back down from him. An unpredictable Malfoy was worse than a predictable Malfoy. "I don't know that now, do I? You tossed a nonverbal spell. For all I know, it could have been an Unforgivable one," he replied, taking a step towards her.

"That's stupid, really. You know I'd never do that," Hermione snapped and cringed a little at her abrupt outburst when she saw his pupils dilating at her words. _She was not scared of him. She was not scared of this. She was not at fault._

He stood there glaring at her and shoved his hands behind his back to resist the urge of throttling her. He didn't want to do anything in his rage and tried controlling it. Maybe, _maybe,_ he might regret killing her, but at this moment, it was highly debatable.

 _Deep breath in and out. Kill Granger here and throw her out._

She seemed to have missed an important lesson in school; that trespassing someone's property without permission was not something anybody should do. _Definitely, the perks of being associated with Weasley_ , he thought, eyeing the way she stood there glaring at him. As if this was his fault. As if _he_ was the one entering her chamber unannounced.

And now, _now_ , the job was up to him to enlighten her. _To teach her._ So that she'd never attempt such foolishness. Ever.

 _How delightful!_

Hermione guessed that he was itching to hex her and frantically searched her sides for help. _That vase looked strong enough to-_

"Never do that ever? Or never do that to _me_? Also, are you quite sure that's a good decision?" Draco asked her, invectively breaking her train of thought.

She didn't answer him, for she didn't have an answer to that. His words taunted her. There was some hidden truth in that statement. Would she never raise her wand against him? And, as he said...was that... _would_ that be a sensible option?

Ignoring the urge to grab the vase, for he had inched closer to her than she realised, she turned towards his bed to lift the bed covers, and winced when she saw his artwork. The bed was smartly lined with a stack of pillows which appeared to be 'breathing.' The blond hair was nothing but a cleverly placed blonde mop.

It was the silliest and the most effective thing she had seen in a very long time. Simple and hassle less. It strongly reminded her of Fred and George.

 _Do they teach that in Auror training?_ She pondered but quickly pushed aside that thought when she heard his rapid breathing behind her. Her mind quickly set to work. She decided to praise him. Wizards often melted when someone praised their craftsmanship. You could praise Ron on his flying skill (if one could use that word for him) and be guaranteed that he'd bring some of his mother's best homemade pies for you. Malfoy was no different. Or so, she hoped.

Clearing her throat, which she realised had become extremely parched, she said, "That was ingenious, by the way," in a false appraising tone, which appeared fake even to her.

"I don't need your bloody pat on my back," Draco barked, moving towards her.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione realised that it wouldn't be as easy as it had been with Ron. She suddenly wanted to put as much distance between them as possible and had no qualms in accepting that she was a bit worried about the situation she had gotten herself into. "I think I'll go to my room now. We'll discuss this in the morning," she voiced. _Hopefully Ellie will be around so that you won't get to kill me_ , she prayed and wheeled around to reach the door.

She moved past him and in relief, extended her arm to grab the door knob, when out of the blue she felt his strong fingers on her wrist. She turned to look at him with questioning eyes but found herself roughly tossed towards the wall and grunted loudly when her body hit the adjacent wall instead.

Draco spun her around and grabbed her neck. "Not so fast," he snarled in her ear.

He pushed her against the wall and tightening his hold on her, leaned into her. "Haven't you learnt anything, Granger, in all these years? Haven't you learnt to not lurk around dark wizards? To not go _looking_ for trouble?" he hissed, in that silky smooth voice of his.

She squirmed in his arms. She scratched her nails on the back of his hand. But he only increased his hold on her. "Let me go," she tried to scream as he again pushed her against the wall, this time with his body.

"Malfoy," she choked and gasped. Together. More out of fear for his proximity than anything.

"Why? What's the matter? Realized Potter and Weasley are not around to rescue you?" he demanded, his face twisting in pain.

"Malfoy...please…you're hurting me," Hermione struggled to answer.

She kept scratching his hand to push it away from her throat, but his hold was too strong for her to push past him. She was suffocating and she knew that it was only a matter of few seconds before he killed her.

"Malfoy," she croaked, writhing in his hold.

He wanted to strangle her. He wanted her to see sense. He wanted to kill her. For a moment there, he simply could not ascertain what he was doing or what she was trying to speak. He felt her toes stomping his foot and her knee trying to pound his groin. But he only moved his hips closer to her, in reply, effectively pinning her in place and trapping all movements from her lower half.

A tiny sob escaped her lips and his gaze fell on her eyes.

Something passed through him. He realized that he was standing extremely close to her. His chest was lightly touching the front of her robes and her face was close enough for him to see unshed tears clouding her eyes. He felt a pulse under his fingers and realized that his hand was wrapped around her neck and immediately released her, as if his fingers had burned from the mere touch of her skin.

He removed his other hand which was holding her in place and put some distance between them. His wand laid forgotten between them on the floor as he walked away from her, panting. He had no idea how he had accosted her. It seemed all hazy to him.

He had not lost his temper in such a manner in a really long time. His fingers started shuddering as he realized what would have happened. He could not believe it that he had actually tried to hurt her.

When he had seen her lurking around in his room, he realized how her brain worked. She simply could not take no for an answer.

He thought she was the smartest witch he had the misfortune of meeting, that she could outsmart anyone. But apparently not. She was as foolish as a witch could get.

The risks she might have taken during the second war were something he did not wish to know. Ever. He guessed he'd have to congratulate Potter on keeping her alive for all these years. He was sincerely glad that he wasn't there to see her antics.

Didn't she know that you never ever try to catch an Auror unprepared? You'd be dead before you hit the ground.

Hell, it was a part of their training too. To be prepared even when you're asleep. _Kill first, Firewhiskey after, think later_. That was their motto they all lived on, _depended_ on. Had he not been standing behind the door, well, _well,_ let's just say, Granger was damn lucky tonight.

Wiping his forehead on the sleeve, Draco turned to face her. He saw her bent over and gasping for breath. Her troubled look and the angry marks on her pale neck made his stomach drop.

"Sorry," he mumbled, his eyelids dropping to the floor.

Hermione was not sure if it was a trick of her ears or Malfoy had actually expressed his regret. And regret for what? His regret for almost killing her or his regret at failing to kill her?

She eyed him with disgust and lifted her hand to her bosom to calm her overworked heart.

"I got carried away. I'm not usually accustomed to have friendly visits in my room at midnight. I overreacted," he confessed in a hoarse voice.

His explanation stunned her. She had not expected him to give any justification for his actions. She thought she detected a trace of remorse, but she wasn't certain of it. She nodded once at him and started walking towards the door, calling an end to the night's activities.

She knew him well enough to say that even her near death by his own hands wouldn't make him return her wand. As she reached the door, she saw his wand lying on the floor near his cupboard and was tempted for a second to snatch it, but she didn't feel like facing his ire again.

"Granger… Hermione?"

She stopped her retreat hearing his low, roughened voice calling out to her.

"I really am... sorry."

Without turning back or accepting his apology, she fled to her room and bolted the door shut behind her.


	8. Blackhearts

**Edited by** **: _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Blackhearts**

Draco collapsed on his bed and stared at the door Hermione had just slammed. He had _not_ seen this coming. Not anticipated this at all. How had it gone wrong? What had come over him to make him so irascible? So disgusting... Was he even thinking? Why did he make this shit up?

He thought he'd just teach her a lesson. Maybe in a cruel manner, but he never claimed to be a saint anyway.

He wanted her to know that he, Draco Malfoy, was a step ahead of her. Come what may, he'd always be ahead of her. And that was it.

But this was...terribly fucked. _He_ was terribly fucked.

Cursing himself, he picked up his wand, stormed to the adjoining shower room, flicked the lights on and splashed some numbing water on his face. It was one of those rages, he reflected. He thought he had gained control over it. Learnt to tame it. But no, he had not.

He was still his old self. How much ever he tried, he was still _that_ Draco. He had not been this irrational, this unsuppressed for years.

Leaning on the sink, he shut his eyes and tried to calm his racing heart. What was he going to do now? And what was _she_ doing now? Should he send Ellie to have a look at her? Or, should he go check hims — _no!_ that _would_ be stupid.

He knew he had worried her. Perhaps, he might even be the one to be prosecuted now. But it wasn't his fault. Simply wasn't.

She always brought the worst out of him, he regarded, glaring at his surrounding. Even during school, she used to infuriate him. Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't his favourite past-time to slander the Muggleborns. He never used to snub the Creevey brothers or Finch-Fletchley at every opportunity. Unless there was a Quidditch match, of course. He couldn't control his temper then. He was hardly to blame.

But Hermione Granger had always been a special case. To be honest, it was not entirely cause of her blood status. Just the sight of her with her two "amigos," who would be flanking her on both sides like lovestruck puppies, annoyed the hell out of him.

Their laughter when she used to tell them something funny or her displeasure when they used to play Exploding Snaps or its likes at the back of the class disturbed him. A lot.

Zabini thought he was obsessed with her. He wasn't. Truly. But why the fuck should she go meddle in their affairs? _Annoying bitch!_

Grabbing his towel from the stand, he started to wipe his face dry.

He had anticipated this move from her tonight. Who wouldn't? _Hell,_ he would have been surprised if she hadn't done anything in retaliation. She was so predictable. In fact, all gryffindors were. What he didn't understand was his own reaction. Why had _he_ become so sore?

The moment he had walked away from her in the study, he knew she'd try to do something. He knew she'd try to get her wand. He was expecting that. For this reason, he had been standing behind the door the entire time. He had even heard her when she had gone down to check on Ellie.

Her toe must have caught the foot of the railing for he had heard her low expletive. He knew it wouldn't be long before she tried sneaking into his room. _Fuck!_ that was one of the reasons why he had placed that Weasley product in the first place.

He wanted to catch her in action. And then humiliate her. Irritate her. Piss her. Certainly not — _he swollowed thickly_ — not make her cry or after tonight's events, _kill_ her.

Shaking his head, he checked his pale reflection in the mirror. His bloodshot eyes stared right back at him.

Feeling lower than a bag full of dragon droppings, he averted his gaze and started unbuttoning his shirt instead as he wondered what would have happened if he had not foreseen this. What if he had been "sleeping" the whole time? He let out a dry chuckle. That would never have happened .

Hermione Granger, didn't realize it, but, she had been this close of getting killed tonight, he mused, drawing his index finger and thumb together. Or, he had been this close of killing Hermione Granger. Either way, Granger had almost booked herself a ticket to the abode of the bitches. That was for sure.

Perhaps, she should be glad that he wasn't asleep, he considered. How many times in the past had he been attacked in his sleep? How many times had his senses alerted him to attack before he actually checked? For, that was who he was. What he did. A ruthless bastard.

She should be glad, really glad that he was awake, he weighed. But still, whatever had happened tonight, that was inexcusable.

Throwing his discarded shirt and wash cloth in the hamper, he walked towards his bed and pushed away the evidence of tonight.

Weasley's wand fell on the floor with a light thud, reminding him again of Hermione's sneakiness. She had been afraid of him, he recalled. He'd have to apologize tomorrow. He shuddered just thinking of that disaster Since when had he, Draco Lucius Malfoy, grand son of Abraxas Malfoy, started apologizing to anyone?

Leaning on the bed, Draco laid his head on the cushion and let out a tired sigh. It had come so simply a while back. Just that look on her face and he had asked her pardon. Had he really gone overboard with this?

He turned on his side to rid his mind of that vulnerable face.

He knew he had scared her. Her face said that much. But what scared him was the fact that for a minute back there, he had been scared _for_ her.


	9. Making Amends

**Edited by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Making Amends**

Breakfast the next day was a subdued affair as Draco was feeling miserable when he finally left the confinement of his room.

He was fervently hoping to avoid having any confrontation with Hermione and thus, was in a hurry to leave for the Ministry. However, he was down on luck and was ill prepared to find her at the dining table; his expression hardened automatically as he noticed Ellie serving his former classmate.

Gritting his teeth in annoyance, he summoned the elf and simply informed her to not expect him for lunch; and wheeled around to leave, when the tender-hearted elf, fully aware of her Master's busy schedule had bossily pulled him towards the serving room instead.

Not wanting to appear a weakling in front of Granger, Draco allowed his caretaker to guide him towards the dining area. Glaring at the elf, he barked instructions to quickly arrange for his breakfast and dejectedly sat in his chair, refusing to acknowledge his unwanted guest.

His avoidance suited Hermione just fine. The night before, once she had returned back to her room, _safely,_ she could not ascertain his behaviour. One minute he was angry with her for entering his premises and the next moment he was trying, _noooo_ , _hell no, he attempted_ to kill her.

She frowned at the half eaten breakfast plate laid in front of her and wondered whether he truly hated her to such an extent, or, was it still cause of his old prejudice: _Her blood_.

Of course their animosity had reached an all time high during their later years of Hogwarts, but that was, she had assumed due to them fighting for opposite sides. What with she being Harry's friend and he being Lucius' son it wasn't really possible for them to be atleast _, civil_ with each other.

But his yesterday's performance had been unacceptable, Hermione considered biting her lower lip.

And downright scary. She shivered slightly just imagining his fingers on her neck again.

Unheedingly massaging her neck, she was brought back to reality when she heard Draco clear his throat.

"Are you alright?" he mumbled.

He had spoken so softly, so sincerely — _sincerely? Draco Malfoy speaking sincerely was news even to her_ — that she had to lip read his words.

"Fine, I guess," she answered nonchalantly, shrugging her shoulders.

He nodded, ( _still avoiding her eyes)_ and continued with his breakfast, making no effort to make small talk.

Hermione observed him, mutely gobbling down his food and wondered what might be going on inside that slytherin mind of his. Peering at him with narrowed eyes, she sipped the cup of morning coffee Ellie had so graciously made for her.

Draco bowed his head down even further as he felt her eyes. The way she kept staring at him was unnerving. He shifted slightly in his seat in the pretext of making himself sit cozily, but didn't lift his gaze towards her.

 _Merlin!_ She was making him extremely uncomfortable. It was his house for fuck's sake. And she had no right to— _why the fuck was she still staring at him?_ What was she looking at him for? _Fuck!_ Was she planning to complaint against him? He considered, then snorted delicately as he realised what that would do to her career.

She'd the one behind bars for attacking an Auror, he reflected, cutting his egg into half.

But then— _there_! He felt her observing him again. Was she expecting some kind of rendition from him. An apology? _From him? From him!_

He might as well get it off his chest, he regarded, gulping down an entire glass of water.

"Listen, Granger…" he began, his pale grey eyes holding her attention. "…about last night..."

Putting his glass down, he let out a breath and shrugged his shoulders in determination. "That was…unintentional," he explained, scratching his forehead and looking down at his own food.

"You just caught me off guard. That's why I couldn't control my temp..." he faltered and slowly lifted his head to catch her eyeing him again.

He swallowed involuntarily, gulping down his pride and reasoned.

"You-u can ask anyone. We are trained to expect such-such 'attacks' on us," he quickly added, when he saw the slight raise of an eyebrow, he was so proud of doing himself.

It would have been a lot easier if she had yelled back, but she just sat there focusing on him as if he were some unsolved mystery.

"I hope you understand. It was nothing personal," he concluded, in his feeble attempt of apology. _This was it. She can take it or leave it_.

Lifting her coffee mug, Hermione's hand automatically stopped midway as she considered his words. She cocked her head to one side and tried to decipher his reasoning. That did not make sense, she weighed, her suspicious and alert mind kicking into action.

"I caught you unaware?" she asked him, in an even, quiet tone, her forehead scrunching with confusion.

"Wha—why, yes!" he answered with uncertainty, her question had startled him. He expected her to hurl abuses or even threaten him. But she just sat there, with her half eaten breakfast lying forgotten and analysing him! Analysing _his words! What had his world come down to?!_

He didn't think she'd want to talk again and so lifted his fork when her next words stopped him in his track.

"But that's ridiculous. How could I have caught you unaware when you were spying on me the entire time?" she asked him innocently, still holding her coffee mug.

"You placed a fake wand for your entertainment, I'm sure. You definitely had enough time to charm the pillows _and_ manage the fake hair. I'd say, you were better prepared than me," she pointed uncannily and waited _._

 _What was she waiting for? Was he supposed to explain why he had a mini attack yesterday? Was he supposed to explain what he didn't understand himself?_

 _Fuck!_ He should have known. The bitch would rationalize everything, word to word, situation by situation and then come up with some more headache for him.

He didn't like hearing her analysis. He did not like her show of intelligence. She always did that—came up with some smart, logical answer and shut him up.

But that was, in the past. He won't let her do that to him again.

He reacted the only way he knew of. He sniggered at her. "On second thoughts , _Granger_..." he simpered, dropping his fork on the plate and wiping his lips with the table napkin.

He propped his feet on the table next, and tossing a big, fat grape in his mouth in that _'I-don't-give-a-damn'_ attitude— which infuriated her to no end— smirked, "...I'm sure Potter and Weasley would be _quite_ interested to know that you were sneaking into _my_ room. In the middle of night. _Without_ any invitation. Crawling."

"And I must confess..." he continued breezily, "...it was an extremely delectable sight, _especially_ from where I was standing," he taunted. And slowly winked at her, his eyes filling with an unsuppressed glee, making her want to smash her coffee mug on his head in return.

Embarrassed, she gave him a disgusted look and continued with her coffee, her traitorous brain deserting her with no comeback.

She looked away in resentment, her cheeks turning pink at his incivility. But he wasn't the one who had been uncivil, _initially_ atleast. It was her. All her. And surprisingly, she did feel embarassed for the way he had found her and hardly because she had been unsuccessful in her escape mission. Had it been someone else who'd commented on her _err.. position,_ she'd have laughed out loud, punched his shoulder and might have even asked him whether he enjoyed the view. But the way he said it, she felt exposed in the ways she couldn't explain. And extremely _naked._ Which was silly.

He heaved a sigh of relief at the awkwardness stretched between them and sitting back, started tossing food in his mouth as rapidly as he could. He didn't think she'd be quiet for long since their score board now said: ' _Draco: 1 and Hermione: 0._ ' He knew she'd want to get back for his insult and he wanted to leave before she decided to equal the score. _Fat chance!_

Emptying his plate within a record speed, Draco got up and ignoring her altogether, returned to the living area, grabbing the morning edition of Daily Prophet from the centre table on his way. He started fastening his cloak in a rapid pace when he heard the dining room chair scraping against the floor, indicating the end of her meal.

 _Fucking_ _hell_! He knew she was going to turn up here and argue with him again. Yelling unnecessarily about keeping her in house arrest and everything.

 _As if he wanted to._

Yesterday, he was hoping to find some answers in her department and had even tried talking to Anthony Goldstein; her colleague, but that wanker had been summoned for some urgent work before Draco could get any answers out of him. Draco was sure that Anthony had grown suspicious, since he had never even muttered a polite _hello_ to her or their entire team for that matter, before giving any real answers to him. He could bet that Anthony would let Potter know about his sudden interest in the bitch's life and couldn't care less. _Like he didn't have enough worries already._

He didn't understand it but. That why he was felt so strongly about Granger's gamble. To say he wasn't curious to know why she tried committing suicide would be a lie. But after his impromptu outburst last night (to _hell with her),_ he couldn't wait to get rid of her bossy ass.

He didn't think it would be good for his career if he accidentally killed one of the top notch lawyers of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in his rage.

Even the sacrificial hero wouldn't be _that_ forgiving of him this time.

Sensing Hermione's presence in the room, he made no attempt to acknoweldge her but continued to roll the sleeve of his robe when he heard her impatiently tapping her foot on the wooden floor.

Taking his time with the wrapper, he hooked the newspaper under his arms and turned around with an irritated look. _Yes?_

"I was wondering if you could inform my department about me calling in sick today," Hermione asked him sweetly.

That got his attention. _Hermione Granger calling in sick, when she wasn't? His eyes narrowed in consternation_ as he stared at her in disbelief.

Obviously he wasn't letting her out of his eyesight until he had rationally given a thorough thought to her situation. And even if he was going to work today, it was simply submit a file. He had enough time on his hands to find out more about her.

But that didn't mean he expected her to understand all this and easily accept her plight without arguing.

In fact, he was a bit disappointed with her lack of spirit for not picking up a fight. But then, what did he care for her lack of anything? If she was going to be a good girl and let him take the lead, he didn't think he could have asked for more.

"I can do that," he answered skeptically.

"Thank you. Well, have a nice day," she mumbled and turned back towards her room.

Draco watched her retreat with wariness. _Did_ _she_ _really_ _wish him_ a _good_ _day_? He mused, wondering if he needed to get his ears checked.

Her good day might mean her wish for him to choke to his death in a chimney or something, he snorted. _What? He had the same wish for her._

Shaking his head at her nonsense pleasantries and glad at how quickly their conversation had ended, he reached for the flowerpot on the mantelpiece and took a pinch of the glittering Floo powder.

He was about to step up into the fire when he stopped all of a sudden, as an impromptu doubt caught his mind.

He was expecting a minimum of fifteen minutes of tantrum from her. _Minimum fifteen minutes._

Before he threatened to hex her or actually hexed her in annoyance, he was expecting atleast a bit of drama and abuses. He was relieved that she had chosen to not argue with him, but somehow she seemed more accommodating of his request. _Which was dubious._ And more _than someone in her situation would be anyway._

Peeking out of the chimney, he stepped down to summon Ellie and making sure that Hermione was out of ear shot, he gave her a fresh list of instructions to follow.

Glad that the oversmart witch wouldn't be able to carry out any of her conniving plan, Draco tossed some floo powder in the fireplace.

He wanted to get rid of her, alright, but he couldn't wait to see what she'd do next. He chuckled when he remembered that he had actually told Ellie to be safe from her.

Salazar knew what a crazy Gryffindor was capable of.


	10. Ex Spots The Miss

**Edited by** **: _Frogster_**

* * *

 **"** ** _Ex"_** **Spots the Miss**

Draco emerged from the fireplace of the Ministry's hallway with a soft whoosh. He started following the early office-goers into the smaller hall located beyond, to await his turn at the lift.

He was eager to know about Hermione's latest escapades and was wondering if the elf had already caught her sneaking into his room. He chuckled at that thought and had an amused look on his face as he proceeded towards the lift. His expression certainly didn't go unnoticed by his fellow colleagues, who rarely saw him smiling, let alone amused.

After several minutes, he got out of the lift to enter the Auror Headquarters situated on level two. A few inter-departmental memos followed him as he entered his office, unfolding themselves lazily as he set to work.

He had a report to submit this morning to the Minister of Magic—Kingsley Shacklebolt, himself— and set to re-evaluate it. Knowing how shrewd his devious senior was, he cleared his mind of nonsense thoughts and opened the file lying on his work desk.

An hour later, after checking his watch, Draco realized that he still had ample time left before his meeting with Shacklebolt.

Since he did not have any new assignment at hand, he decided to see if he could try his luck with Hermione's secretary, as Anthony had not responded to Draco's visit well yesterday. Not that Draco was interested in striking a conversation with someone who had once hexed him in the fifth year.

He recalled that how for no apparent reason, Goldstein and his other sorry mates had decided to play Weasley's role of sidekick to Potter when he had finally cornered him on the Hogwarts Express. He didn't think he was going to forget that sting so easily.

Although he was of the opinion that he ought to punch the bastard's face than strike a polite conversation with him, he understood what was required of him. _For now._

Sighing to himself, he hoped that he'd be lucky to get a couple of minutes alone with Granger's secretary, so that he could throw out the witch who was currently enjoying hospitality at his home.

Putting back his papers in the drawer, he stretched his back, rose from the chair and locking his cabin with a quick spell, gave a curt nod towards the first year Interning Auror that greeted him outside. Hoping that her secretary wasn't someone he had offended in the past, he entered the lift again to make his way towards the Department of Magical Law Enforcement situated on level five.

Draco didn't like this part. He hated questioning people and the long drill of interrogations. Loathed the feared look his opponents gave him. It made him sick. Made him hate himself more.

But despite his dislike for probing, he always seemed well-suited for it. At times, the name Malfoy evoked fear ( _all credits to his father_ ) in his adversaries, which made his job a lot easier. Although it did make him resent Lucius Malfoy even more, but nobody cared about that. Did they?

He had a feeling that his colleagues often summoned him to question the miscreants when they wanted quick answers and didn't want the long process of cross-examination. He couldn't really fault them.

When it came to questioning a female counterpart it was all the more paltry. He just had to charm his way and they would be swooning at his feet, like always. Few assurances thrown together with some explicit debauched suggestions and they would be ready to sell their own husbands if he wished. He shook his head in exasperation as he recalled the last case he was working on. He almost had a heart to send off an anonymous owl to that witch's husband explaining him of his wife's faithfulness. _Traitorous bitch,_ Dra _co humphed_ in disgust _._

Used to the impolite stares the Ministry officials sent in his direction, Draco ignored them and stepping out of the elevator, searched his way towards the secretary's cubicle.

He noted with some perverse satisfaction that the only office as messy and disorganised as the Auror Headquarters was the Law Office. There were huge piles of books (magically supported) stacked in the corners of almost all the walls. Pieces of crumpled parchment were lying on the floor which nobody had time or interest to dump. Blue office memos kept zooming from one section to another at regular intervals citing their importance.

Quickly ducking his head, Draco avoided getting hit by a fat rule book which was been summoned by a worried looking wizard. He kept on walking towards the end and when he reached Hermione's personal office door, turned in the opposite direction to gently knock at the desk of an otherwise engrossed witch. She seemed to be copying down the revised version of International Magical Trading Standards and was hardly paying any attention to the people around her. _Definitely junior Granger,_ Draco noted. He'd recognised that trait anywhere _._

Draco couldn't help but notice how pretty she was. Thick eyelashes and beautiful red hair. Almost like a blazing sun.

The witch in question bit her lower lip in worry to her own writing assignment making Draco notice her delectable red lips. _Definitely worth coming here._ _Too bad she is so young_ , he mused, noticing her slender fingers absently brushing her hair aside. _Getting answers from her will be a piece of cake_ , he decided.

"Morning," he called in a fake-cheerful voice to gain her attention.

With an annoyed bearing, the young secretary tilted her head up. Her eyes widened with astonishment and by the looks of it, was entranced by the sudden presence of him. He saw her glance at his robes once, determining that he was an Auror.

Melanie couldn't stop stairing at the vision in front of him. Even the models of Gladrags Wizardwear seemed plain in front of him. He radiated power. Style and excellence. And he was here. He had wished her _. Wished her._

Yesterday, when he had come to meet Mr. Goldstein, she couldn't keep her eyes off him. She didn't think she could keep her eyes off him again. But she had to pretend.

"Good morning," the witch lisped, dazedly.

Draco plastered a confident, subtly seductive smile on his face and held her gaze purposefully.

"What can I do for you, Mr...?" she asked him, blushingly.

 _How about you suck my cock?_ Draco thought to himself and chuckled.

"Malfoy. Aren't you Granger's secretary?" he convincingly doubted, creasing his forehead.

She almost lost a beat as she saw him studying her intently. "That's right. I'm Melanie Jones. Secretary to Miss Granger," she announced, sitting straighter in the chair. "How may I help you?" she asked, breathing shallowly, for Draco had just leaned forwards to brush a stray curl from her face. He gave her a devilish smile in return.

Peeking at the name tag pinned at the top of her tight blouse, Draco let his gaze remain for a few seconds more than necessary and cast a brief look at her cleavage unashamedly.

The inexpert witch turned scarlet under Draco's flirty attentions and fidgeted with her quill.

"I just heard someone mention in the hallway that your boss, the little "she-devil," will not be turning in today..." He rolled his eyes at the preferred attribution.

"...apparently some bad case of Scrofungulus," he added and faked a chuckle.

"Oh…" her voice trailed off as she looked dejectedly towards Draco realizing that he was only there to inform about her boss.

"And I thought, I'll personally come here and inform you," he declared, teasingly.

"Th-thank you..." she bubbled and inhaled deeply to allow him to see the rise and fall of her heavy bosom.

"Not at all, Melanie. The pleasure is all mine," he said smoothly, giving her a fake bow. He internally smirked as she visibly melted.

She smiled at him shyly which made Draco muse about the minutes it would take her to come apart on his tongue. "So, I was wondering…" Draco quickly dove in, lightly tracing patterns with his finger on her left forearm, "…does she fall sick often? Because I would surely like to drop by again."

The young witch smiled at the tall wizard before answering. "Mmm...Not really. But yeah, she chose to work from home the entire last week. But I doubt she was really sick, faking it more likely," Melanie recalled, enjoying the handsome wizard's ministrations.

"Really?" Draco asked her in fake enthusiasm, "I wonder why..."

"We think," Melanie leaned forward, checked on her either side and whispered, "that she might have gone out of the country. She looked so tired and pale on her return."

"And where might she have gone? Maybe you and I can..." he murmured in her ear.

She flushed visibly and withdrew her hand from his touch. "I guess I'll have to check her apparition details, but I strongly suspect —"

Exactly what she strongly suspected, Draco would have to wait to find out. For they were greatly disturbed by a roar of laughter coming from the entrance. Annoyed with the interruption, he turned around and his eyes turned into slits when he saw a head of disturbingly similar red hair making its way towards them. _Fuck! Was he lusting over a Weasley relative just now?_

He quickly smoothed his expression and waited for the figure to approach him.

Ron Weasley was strolling with Anthony Goldstein and they were howling with laughter. "And then— then, I said, 'Luna, honey, your cooking and dressing is almost the same. It's meant to kill!'" Ron chortled, wiping tears from his eyes.

Anthony laughed loudly on hearing his friend's marital squabbles and thumped his back. He softly made another comment, which made both the wizards suffer from another bout of guffawing.

They were about to enter Anthony's cubicle when they saw Draco standing near the secretary's station.

Their expression soured immediately and Anthony quickly made his way towards the secretary's station with Ron not far behind.

Draco nodded at both the wizards in acknowledgement. "I was just asking Granger's secretary if she knew where I could find you, Goldstein," Draco replied in exasperation.

The wizard's demeanour changed immediately. "You could have waited for me in my office, Malfoy," he fretted.

Draco shrugged. "I came to inform you that we need the list of offenders in the International Regulation Laws for this year. There might be some connection to one of the cases we are working on," Draco lied smoothly, folding his hands and leaning on Melanie's desk.

Anthony blinked and looked between him and Melanie. "Heard of memos, Malfoy?" he asked him throwing an angry glare at Granger's employee.

"And miss the chance of seeing your...umm... _relaxed_ expression?" Draco said and smiled in a deadly manner.

He glared at the Malfoy heir for several seconds while the blonde simply raised his eyebrow in challenge.

Perhaps it was the fact that Malfoy was an Auror—a terrorizing one—and that he could frame him for any damn case, that made Anthony back down.

"Yeah, alright," he replied in exhaustion when Ron catching his friend's reluctant acceptance opened his mouth to retort but Anthony nudged him in his side, shaking his head. "But that will take some time. We are running short of people. Even Granger has not turned up yet."

"She has called in sick today, Mr. Goldstein," Melanie interjected at the right time, peeping around Draco who was still leaning on her desk.

"Damn!" Ron muttered. "Luna was wondering why Hermione didn't turn up for their shopping trip yesterday. I guess I'll have to drop by and check on her tonight," he added, scratching his nose.

"Fascinating as this conversation is, gentlemen, I'd like to get back to work. Unlike some, _I_ have more pressing matters to attend to. Goldstein, I need that report by the end of this week," Draco nattered as he turned his way towards the lift, but not before winking at the expectant secretary.

He was sure that Weasley and Goldstein would be 'male bitching' behind his back for some time now and he couldn't care less.

Instead of the elevator, he used the stairs and entered his office to pick up the file that had to be submitted to the Minister.

Until now, he had had an inkling that Hermione was holding something back. But now, he was certain that she had more secrets than even he was ready to admit.


	11. Secrets, Lies And Raids

**Edited by** **: _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Secrets, Lies And Raids**

Hermione was in a pleasant mood, this eve. She had finished her nap after her rather heavy breakfast and was too comfortable to get up from the bed. A soft sigh of contentment escaped her lips as she stretched herself and leaned further on her pillow. She knew it was irrational to stay in Malfoy's home, but she didn't want to worry about that now. She was simply glad that she was able to complete her pending sleep.

With another lusty yawn, she closed her eyes again. She felt sated at the moment.

She giggled after a while when she remembered the little elf running around her with false errands before she decided to retire in her temporary quarters.

Hermione knew Malfoy must have instructed Ellie to keep an eye on her and he couldn't be more wrong. Who better than her to know the potentialities of an elf? She wasn't foolish to try for her wand again after her failed venture last night. She could bet that Malfoy must have added additional enchantments to his chamber to prevent her from gaining entry.

She wanted her wand, alright; but she wasn't going to give him an opportunity to disparage her with yet another unsuccessful attempt.

She knew he was surprised when she informed him this morning of her decision to report sick for work. His eyes said that much before he had masked his expression. He must have thought she was planning another escape mission for she had heard him summon the elf when he thought she had left.

But the final mark had been hers, she decided; as she had made _Draco Malfoy_ , a herald. It had been too good an opportunity to miss to make him a _messenger_ to dispatch a word for her at the office. She had asked him _oh-so-sweetly_ to inform her department before he headed back to work.

She smiled at her cleverness.

She had already decided to take the day off before he had headed downstairs for breakfast. Last night, had turned out eventful for both of them and she wanted to sort it out in her mind before using it to her advantage. She highly doubted his answer would change unless she succumbed to his orders which she had no plans of following, of course.

She had chosen to wait to have a firm talk with him for she knew how stubborn he could get. She didn't want him questioning around to make matters worse.

Hermione knew he wouldn't drop it unless it appeased his sudden, unnecessary curiosity in her affairs. She needed time to get back in the game for there were pressing matters and the more quickly and efficiently she dealt with him first, the more quickly she could get back to it.

She pushed aside her quilt and sat up. She placed her palms on her face and sighed.

Why hadn't she realized that she was being followed the other night? How long had Malfoy followed her? Was he lying when he said that he had been behind her the whole time? He couldn't have. For, she had apparated. He wouldn't have known where she would apparate, would he? She rejected that thought. He must have already been there on the terrain, but why…

She thought she had seen someone else there too, behind the bushes. But she wasn't certain of it. It had been dark. The fog hadn't been cooperative to dissipate either.

It could have been a trick of her mind because, within a blink of her eyes the peepers had disappeared.

She remembered she had been lying on the ground, trying to calm her racing heart, when she opened her eyes to find _something_ lurking from the shadows. She would have missed it had she been standing, for the eyes were at her eye level, although at some distance.

She had tried to peer again, but Malfoy had demanded her attention next. She had been so surprised to find him there that she had completely forgotten about it, until now.

Tying her hair in a loose bun, Hermione went to the adjoining washroom to freshen up. Wiping her hands with a borrowed towel, she entered her room and sat at the writing desk.

She wasn't sure why Draco was behaving like this. Her mind suggested that he was only trying to bully her with his authority as an Auror. But when she had told him to not mention a word to Harry, he had obliged. For Harry had not dropped by to bombard her with questions, yet. Somehow, she knew he would keep his word. She didn't know what made her formulate this conclusion, but she just knew. He had even saved her life, she grudgingly admitted.

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, got up from her seat and headed downstairs. She was eager to see the disappointment on Malfoy's face when he realized she hadn't done anything stupid as he had expected. And that was the reason, she convinced herself, was why she kept on checking the time.

* * *

Draco entered the house a little before time. He was looking forward to know where he would find Granger. Perhaps tied with a rope in his room, maybe with blackened soot on her fuming face or with some other unsavory sight. He grinned at that image as he got out of the fire.

He was about to call Ellie to demand to know where Hermione was, when he saw her in the salon.

She was stretched flat on the futon mattress on her stomach and propped up elbows with some book under her nose. Her tiny linked ankles dangled in the air. Her boring robe hid her body well, but her lazy position gave him a clear view of her round derrière. The hem of her robe was bunched up around her knees, exposing her slender calves.

She seemed to be highly engrossed in her book for she didn't even turn when he cleared his throat to gain her attention. He took his moment studying her and with a wicked glint in his eyes, shouted the elf's name, all the while gazing at the figure in front of him.

That had the desirous effect. She gasped and her hand instantly went towards her absent wand while she sprang to her feet with an almost 'O' of her mouth. She blushed slightly for having being caught unaware.

She was thinking of hiding the book away, lest he thought she was snooping around his study this time. She decided against it as he had already seen it lying on the mattress. She picked up the book and kept it on the centre table.

Draco saw some hesitation in her eyes before she bent down and gave him an inadvertent view of her breasts. _Her full, firm breasts_ , Draco added. _Granger was a blessed woman,_ he thought. _Rather, some lucky sod was a blessed man._ He had to shake his head at the direction of his thoughts then.

He was about to ask her what she had been up to today when he was interrupted by the apparition of Ellie.

"Evening, Master. I hope your day was good?" the elf politely asked him, as she took his travelling cloak.

"It was," he replied, still looking at Hermione.

"I take your day was well? Nothing out of ordinary happened?" Draco enquired, as he headed towards the lounge chair.

"Yes, Master," Ellie responded, while hanging his cloak on the coat stand.

He accepted her answer with a slight nod of his head, leaned on the chair and closed his eyes. He asked for some refreshments and the elf happily apparated to do his bidding.

Draco slowly opened his eyes and saw Hermione surveying him.

"And how was your day, Granger?" he asked her, indicating with his hand for her to sit as well. "I hope you're well rested."

Hermione was stunned. How did he know what she had done after he was gone? She had assumed that he might have thought she would try to run. But apparently he had guessed it correctly.

"Yes, I am," Hermione answered, taking the seat opposite him.

Draco would die before admitting to her that he almost fell into her trap. The little vixen had deliberately made him believe that she was plotting something. He should have known better. He was mildly annoyed with himself for not surmising that before. His gaze fell on the book in front of him and he rolled his eyes. Old habits die hard. "Still into books, are we?" he bickered.

She leaned forward to take the book in her hand and bragged, rather bossily, "One can never have enough books to read."

He shook his head in exasperation.

"So, have you decided what you are going to do?" he queried, taking a cauldron cake from the tray the elf had placed in front of them.

"I have. I'm going to my home, tonight," Hermione replied, adjusting her robe. "From here onwards, I'm going to mind my business and you're going to mind yours. It's simple, really," she added, brushing off some invisible lint from her sleeve.

Hermione tossed her head upwards to gauge his reaction when he didn't answer immediately and saw a vein popping at the centre of his forehead. She couldn't care less.

"I don't think so," Draco replied in a calm, controlled voice after a while.

She wasn't fooled for a minute. Someone might say that he was bored, but she knew better. He was furious. She shrugged at his reply making him itch for his wand.

"I gave you two options. Inform Potter or Weasley. I don't have any preference over the other," he reminded her. "Or, go live with someone. It's simple, really," he announced, sounding too pleasant for her liking, using her own chosen words.

"Why are you doing this, Malfoy?" Hermione accused, forgetting her plan to negotiate calmly. She leaned forward in her seat, folded her arms and glared at him.

"After your little stunt the other day, how can you even ask?"

"What's in it for you? Why are you suddenly so concerned for me? You know, I can't do any of that," she admitted, all trace of friendliness gone.

"I don't care what you think, Granger," he replied, leaning back on the pillow to sit in a more comfortable position.

"What do you care about then? Keeping me here until I break and take you up on one of the options you laid for me?" she raged.

Draco opened his mouth to counter that, but she continued, "Have you noticed any suicidal tendencies while I've been trapped here? Then why these conditions, Malfoy?"

"Believe me, keeping you around is the least of my reasons, Granger. I'll personally be giving a drumroll on your departure," he spat.

Hermione turned red with anger on the insult. She had decided to have a polite conversation with him, but this was turning bad.

"There certainly is something bothering you which you do not wish to share. I'm fine with that, but not at the expense of your death."

He picked up his cup of coffee from the tray and saw her shooting daggers at him. He ignored her and propped his leg on the table. "And might I suggest?" Draco began, sipping his coffee in between. "You better make a decision real quick and spare me the trouble of an unwanted guest."

"Unwanted guest?" Hermione all but shrieked the words. Draco took another sip, paused to smack his lips and said, "Your office, Goldstein, Weasley are missing you. So you better decide today."

"Weasley? You mean, Ron? How did you... did you meet him today?" she questioned him, her sudden outburst changing into suspicion.

"As a matter of fact, I did. I had gone to inform your secretary; a complete opposite of you, by the way; pretty _and_ dumb, and that was when I had the misfortune of meeting him."

Hermione was stunned. Only Draco Malfoy could insult and compliment her at the same time. She shook her head trying to clear her mind.

He smiled smugly. "As much as I was looking forward to interact with him, he did seem worried about you not keeping your appointment with his wife. And might I add, perhaps he will drop by your house, tonight," he concluded.

Hermione sprang to her feet. His book fell from her lap with a clatter.

" _WHAT?_ He is coming to my house _tonight_? And you are telling me this now?" Hermione screamed at him.

She started walking around the room, muttering to herself. Barely paying him any attention. "He could be home at this moment," she spoke. "I should be there. Bloody hell, if he doesn't find me home, he'll go to Harry's." She pulled out her hair in agitation as she kept on babbling.

Draco was observing her with curiosity. He had expected her to worry. That's why he had let it slip about Weasley. But she seemed scared… anguished even. This wasn't the reaction he had hoped for. Something was amiss.

He had decided to try to extract as much as he could from her. He knew when Weasley would be arriving for he had heard him mention that he would drop by her house at the day-end closing of his joke shop which meant that he had some time to gather information.

His thoughts were interrupted twice in the evening, when he heard Hermione.

"What in the name of Merlin are you looking at?" she bellowed, turning towards him. She didn't wait for his reply and took a bend towards the fire place. "I am leaving."

"You can't use that," Draco countered. "Ellie closed it on my arrival."

"Aaargh!" Hermione drawled out in frustration. She turned towards him, her fists opening and closing at her sides. "You don't understand," she started again. "I need to be there. I told you I had my reasons for not confiding with them," she worried. "Imagine, when they find out I'm not where I'm supposed to be. They'll start looking around." _They'll_ start _asking questions._

"I doubt that, Granger. They won't worry if they found out their friend had gone off for a few days. They might assume you're schtupping someone."

Hermione's fingers twitched. She wanted to snatch his coffee mug and pour its content on his head. She closed her eyes instead and took a deep breath. She had to reason with him.

"I need my wand, Malfoy. I need to go there before it's too late," she spoke to him as she slowly opened her eyes.

"How do I know where you might go after this? You might-"

"I won't go commit suicide, Malfoy! I'm not weak!" she literally screamed her head off in frustration.

"If you want, you can tag along. But just get that arse off the chair!"

"With that tone, you can hardly make me move, Granger," Draco warned her. He put aside his beverage and turned in his seat.

"What makes you think, I'm interested to take you to your house? To make you meet your ex?" he asked her. He snorted at her foolishness. "You amaze me, Granger. Such high hopes you have from people," he chuckled, shaking his head in dismay.

" _Malfoy_ ," she started. She walked forwards to sit on a chair next to him and locked her eyes with his, "It will be too late if Ron arrives before I do," she broke in, "And that will complicate things."

Draco didn't know how to react to her words. His body had noticed something new and wanted him to react on it. They were sitting extremely close to each other and her knee was very lightly touching his. He looked at their touching limbs when he heard her sigh. He lifted his eyes to peer over her as he analyzed her words. She had sounded so dejected and scared. It was just a different feeling for Draco to see her like this. She continued regarding him and he felt something tug at his heart.

The warm glow of the burning logs in the fireplace behind her bathed her face in a soft light and for the first time in his life he realized how beautiful she was.

But she looked wounded and vulnerable. She sat there looking at him with such hope in her big brown eyes that he nearly groaned out loud.

He suddenly felt angry at her two best friends. They should have known what was going on in her life. Even if she wanted to hide it from them, they should have realized she was facing some difficulty.

He got up from his seat and walked away from her. He clasped his hand behind his back and didn't speak a word as he tried to think about the situation.

"You are a witch," he stated, after several minutes. "Don't you have any wards up for strangers entering your house?"

Hermione lifted her gaze to answer him. He still had his back towards her.

"Ron isn't a stranger. Neither is any Weasley or Potter. They don't need permission to apparate or floo in," she returned.

"Do you mean it, Granger? Is it important?" He still hadn't turned when he questioned her.

"Yes," she replied to his back.

He rounded to look at her. He seemed to be deciding something.

"Fine. We'll go. But I can't give you your wand yet."

"I guessed as much," Hermione grumbled.

Draco studied her for another minute. He didn't know why he was doing it. But this seemed important to her. She was literally on the verge of pleading. He didn't like seeing her at his mercy.

He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Pointing his hand towards the door, he asked her to lead. Grabbing his cloak from the stand, he followed her.

Hermione gave him her address and a minute later they apparated just inside her door.

He was careful to not touch her bare skin this time when he held her wrist to apparate them. He let go of her hand when they reached and he started looking around him.

The lights had been turned off and the drapes had been shut, giving the entrance a gloomy appearance.

Hermione turned towards her side to switch on the lights before he could lumous it. He made his way behind her when the flash from the artificial lights fell on his surroundings. He turned to walk in her salon when he stopped midway as he felt his heart sink.

He gripped his wand more firmly and grabbed her wrist to push her behind him. The sight before him made the hair at the back of his head stand.


	12. Cutting It Close

**Edited** **by: _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Cutting It Close**

It looked like an inferno. Her entire house was destroyed.

Before Draco could understand the situation, he heard Hermione gasp and felt her move from his side. He pushed her again, pinning her between himself and the door.

Making sure that Hermione was out of harm's way, he concentrated on what was in front of him. Her house looked thoroughly disheveled. His gaze fell on her nightstand lamp lying broken at his feet. The centre table was overthrown near the stairs, her canapé was ripped into two. Her probable work parchments were scattered all over the floor. Bits of glass urn were seen splintered near the fireplace.

It was sickening.

He quietly prowled his way with calculated steps, keeping a firm grip on his wand. "Declare yourself. I'm armed," he commanded to no one in particular.

There was no sign of activity. His eyes scanned the vision in front of him waiting for some kind of retaliation. When there was no movement from the house, he raised his wand and cast the Homenum revelio spell.

Nothing happened

"There's nobody here," Draco perplexed, slightly lowering his wand.

The destroyed remains of her house stood innocently in the pale fluorescent light. He had a slight frown on his face as he moved around carefully, scrutinizing the wreckage surrounding him. Hermione stumbled her way behind him.

"What the hell happened here?" he exploded, turning towards Hermione.

"I-I don't know," Hermione mumbled with a pained expression on her face.

"You don't know what happened?" he asked her in disbelief.

She shook her head no and made her way towards the semi burnt remnants of her table, brushing her fingers over it. She let out a muffled sob as she watched her pale skin turn charcoal grey.

She was shocked beyond words. Rosehill Cottage had been her shelter, her comfort for years now. This had been her first bought home. Her safe haven. And now it lay broken and disfigured at her feet.

"What do you mean you don't know? This is your residence," he argued, bringing her back to present.

"I don't," Hermione croaked.

Draco didn't know how to react. He simply stood there studying the mess. His gaze fell on the broken sofa lying lifelessly on the floor. Oil from the night lamp had spilled on the rug making it sticky. Logs of wood were scattered around the house. As he was surveying his surrounding, he slipped over a stray quill lying aimlessly on the floor and had to grip the mantelpiece for support. Several books from her book shelf were interspersed on the floor. He tracked a particular familiar book and picked it up. It was her thoroughly used copy of Hogwarts: A History…

There was something disturbing about this sight. Draco had seen many such mayhems having played a role in causing some himself, but this seemed different.

He walked towards the interior part of her home and experienced a similar sight as he saw her destroyed kitchen: her broken cutlery strewn on her dining table, a particular knife lodged on the door of her ice machine, among other mess.

When he made his way up the stairs, he was feeling almost nervy. The door of the room he supposed was Hermione's bedroom, was hanging off it's hinges. He entered the room and his gaze fell on the cold walls; they appeared dull, as though no life existed here. Skirts, blouses and lingerie were thrown on the floor and somehow her table lamp had made its way to the balcony.

He came out and saw another door on his left. He entered the guest room and was mildly surprised to see it untouched. The room remained absolutely aloof from the otherwise destroyed house.

His eyebrows gathered together in thought as he made his way down.

Hermione was slouched with resignation in a corner, her back against the wall and head resting on her bent knees. Draco walked to the opposite fireplace, inclined for support and crossed his arms. "Out with it, Granger," he ordered her.

She lifted her head and looked at him with a blank face.

"What happened here?" he jumped down her throat for the nth time.

"How would I know?" she breathed, brushing back a flick of hair from her forehead.

"Don't you know who did this?"

"Merlin! How will I know that?" she counter questioned him.

Draco surveyed her with narrowed eyes. "Look, Granger. I've had enough nonsense from you for three days. I don't care what you're hiding. Or why you're hiding it. Just-just be out with it, already," he struggled to maintain his cool.

"My hiding something has got nothing to do with this," she answered, looking sullen.

He kicked aside the mess lying near his feet and approached her in a different way. "When was the last time you were here?"

Hermione knew it was futile to deny answering him when she had herself dragged him here. She gave a nonchalant shrug and replied, "The day I came to your house."

"Was your home in the same condition as it is now?" he immediately barged her with another question.

She shook her head. "It was… _better,"_ she disclosed after a few seconds.

Draco scratched a side of his jaw to decipher her words. He met her eyes when he heard her speak again.

"I had to come back from work. Some of the mess, I'm afraid is done by me," she confessed, pointing towards the stray parchments.

"What do you mean?"

She closed her eyes and sighed. "I mean I had lost something and in my haste to find it…" she pointed towards the room again.

"Might that be your mind?" Draco mocked her. He was angry to see her destroyed property. A sudden thought entered his mind. _What if she had been home when this happened?_

She stared at him and refused to rise to the bait.

"What were you looking for?" he asked her when it was evident that she was not going to snap back.

"Some office papers. I returned back as soon as I found them," she maintained.

This was a horrible mess, Draco thought as he brushed his hair aside. He didn't know what to believe or what to do about it.

Screening the view in front of him again, he asked her the question that had bothered him for several days now. "Why did you jump, Granger?" he intoned. He spoke extremely calmly, trying to soothe her into answering.

Hermione threw daggers at him with her eyes. She hated him for constantly asking her this. "Look, I'm not having this conversation with you, Malfoy. I don't want to tell you why I jumped. But this..." she gazed at her room, "...I have no idea."

"I think you're lying, Granger," he spat.

Her eyes widened on his words.

"You're a lying, conniving bitch. What think you of that?" he abused. He wanted to provoke her. He wanted her to slip the information he thought she was withholding.

"Mind your language," Hermione snapped at him. "What makes you think I won't tell you, if I knew myself? Isn't that what you are implying? Use your brains, Malfoy. This is my home," she seethed. "And if I'm not wrong, isn't it your job to find out what happened? Or are you so incompetent an Auror that I have to remind you this, myself?" she discredited him.

Before she finished hurling her insults, she found herself at the receiving end of his wand. He had swiftly made his way towards her his wand inches from her face.

"I dare you to repeat that, Granger. I dare you," he snarled. No one had braved doubting his skills on his face. He was trying to help her and like everyone else she was questioning his worth.

Hermione didn't know that she had touched a sore spot. She turned her face on one side and sighed. She was too tired to feel threatened by a wand wielded so close to her face. She closed her eyes instead. "Stop asking me such questions then. Just look around you. Do you think I'll do this? Do you think I'll try to protect someone who did this?"

He dropped his hand holding the wand and raised his eyebrows. "You said it yourself that it was important to go before Weasley turned up. It's but obvious to add these things together," he countered.

"Ron thinks I'm sick. I didn't want him to turn up here and find me missing. He'll go to Harry's then. I don't wan't them to know," she theorized, looking straight in his eyes.

"What do you don't want them to know? What is it that you're hiding?"

She took a deep breath and counted to five. "Listen to this closely, Malfoy. Cause I'm not going to repeat myself. It's none of your business what I tell or choose not to tell my friends," she reprimanded him.

Draco glared at her as he tried to ascertain her actions. The moment he had pushed her behind him when they had entered, she had let out a loud gasp. He wasn't sure if it was because he had roughly pushed her against him or it was because she had caught a glimpse of the house.

The explanation she had given somehow was difficult to believe. But when he had seen her surveying the house, she had looked tormented. _She couldn't be faking that, could she?_

Hermione continued to sit on the rug with her head between her bent forearms. She avoided him as she tried to slow down her racing heart.

"Ron will be here," her muffled voice reached Draco disrupting him from his thoughts after several minutes. He refused to acknowledge it and continued staring at the broken bookshelf.

She peeked at him from behind her hair when he didn't reply. "I don't want him to see this."

"Why the hell not?" Draco snapped, unable to pretend ignorance. He turned his way back to the fireplace and sat down on the floor. "Did you finally realize how worthless he is?" he asked her, pushing aside her half burnt books.

"Malfoy, _please._ Stop it," Hermione requested. She raised her palm up in the 'stop' gesture and glowered at him. "You have to help me clear the house. I can't let him see this. You have guessed as much that I'm hiding something from them. I'm not gonna lie or cover that up. But I have no idea what this is about," she said, glancing around.

"So where's the harm? Let him see this. Let him see how wonderful a friend he and Potter have been to you," he drawled.

They both turned quiet after hearing the truth in his words.

"No, I don't want them to know," Hermione remarked after a moment.

"Just... _please_ , Malfoy. I'm...too tired. Help me clear this," she broke in. She was extremely uncomfortable asking him for anything but she did not have an option. She looked anguished as she tried to make him understand.

"I don't want to be a part of your schemes, alright? Don't drag me in your conspiracies. You are alone in this," he replied coldly, ignoring her troubled expression.

He had had enough of her and her friends. At least he knew what was going on in his friends' lives. What kind of a friendship was hers with Potter and Weasley anyway? When she couldn't even tell them what her difficulties were? He didn't think she was the secretive type.

"I'm not dragging you into this. I told you to leave me alone. You took away my wand and were adamant to bring me to your house," Hermione disagreed.

"Only cause you bloody well tried killing yourself," he snapped back. "Need I remind you? You were the one to ask me to not tell Potter about this?" Draco nudged her.

"Yeah, that was me. But I didn't ask you to house arrest me."

"And-"

Hermione opened her mouth to argue further but kept mum after looking at his angry face.

Draco took out his pocket watch and checked the time. Weasley could be home any minute. Somehow in a perverse way, he wanted him to see the mess she was in. He wanted him to be ashamed for his so called devotion towards his friend. But his otherwise selfish mind didn't want that. Even if he hated it, this was something he and Granger were dragged into. He didn't want Weasley to become a part of this. She had to have some solid reason for not involving them and it would be a lie to say he wasn't interested to know what that might be.

Making up his mind, he gave a light nod of his head and rose from the floor. He lifted his wand and started rearranging and mending the house as efficiently as he could. It wasn't his strong side to perform house cleaning spells never having the need to perform it before. But he used whatever spells he could think of to clear the mess.

Promising himself to hex her if she tried to correct his handy work, he started arranging her book shelf.

Hermione didn't mind that he was misplacing some of the furniture. She hardly cared. She was just glad that he had decided to help her and didn't want to ruin it by making him lose his temper.

Draco went up the stairs to fix her bedroom after arranging her living room and kitchen. He hastily put all the crockery in some random cabinet, sink or wherever he found space.

"You should probably change," Draco spoke to her from the stairs, returning to her salon.

Hermione scanned her dress and realized that she had been wearing the same cover for three days now. It was slightly starting to smell and it made her nose cringe. Heeding to his suggestion she decided to change her robe. She lifted herself and brushed past him on the stairs as he descended.

Draco sat on the couch rubbing his eyes as he waited for her to return. He didn't understand what was going on. Why didn't she want to inform her friends? When she had pestered him into bringing her here, he had assumed it was because of Weasley. He had not actually given a thought why she didn't want Weasley to be alone in her house. Her humble abode had been in quite a state when they had entered. He still didn't understand why some of the furniture was burned without any sign of a fire or break in.

It had to be someone known, Draco assumed. Someone who had access to her floo... Someone with a motive. But the question was: Who? And why?

He scratched his arm and let out a low whistle. Someone had been searching her house, that's what it looked like. Or someone was trying to harm her. And if he didn't know better, he thought someone had badly wanted to scare her.

Hermione returned back wearing a fresh robe and sat on the chair in front of him. They didn't speak a word to each other as they waited for Ron. She didn't know what to expect. She wanted Malfoy to leave before Ron turned up, but yet somehow she was glad that he was around. She felt a bit safe around him. She peeked at him and saw him frowning at the book shelf.

He suddenly turned to her and was surprised to find her there. He quickly got up and unfolded his robe sleeves.

"I'll wait outside. I don't think I could stop puking on your freshly made rug if I had to see him twice in a day," he responded, nodding towards the door.

Hermione loured at him. "I assume you know your way out." She crossed her arms and brought her knees towards her chest, fighting off the chill seeping in her bones.

"I warn you, Granger. No funny business. If I find you have flooed yourself, I'll make sure you become the most wanted witch with the entire Auror department behind your hide," Draco threatened her.

He opened the door and turned back to find her glaring at him and simply stated, "Make it quick. We'll be going back to Highfield once you're done with your visitation."

When she didn't comment on that, he accepted her nonchalance and rounded on her again. "I'll be back the minute he leaves."

"I can hardly wait," Hermione sassed.

Draco shut the door on her rebuke and stepped outside. He descended the steps two at a time and started walking away from her house. He spotted a well hidden tree across the street and made his way towards it. He didn't want anyone to see him here. If Weasley decided to apparate himself, he couldn't be found lurking near her house. He might be tempted to hex him.

Retrieving his wand from his robe, he cleared some space on the ground. Resting his back against the bark of the tree, he removed her half burnt copy of Hogwarts: A History, hidden from his robe and started peering over it.

Hermione continued to stare at the front door. As much as she hated to admit it, she was greatly relieved that Malfoy was nearby. She felt worthless without her wand. Almost _naked_. As if she didn't have a working hand. She knew that if someone tried to attack her or barge in, Malfoy could prevent that and maybe later kill her himself for not answering satisfactorily to his questions.

She didn't understand why Malfoy was doubting her. It was the second time he had made her feel like a culprit. The way he kept on repeating his questions, it was as if he didn't believe her.

Her gaze fell on her roughly adjusted home. Very few people would realize that it had been a mess a couple of minutes back. Like, maybe Mrs. Weasley.

Some of her furniture was still haphazardly thrown together but she didn't think Ron would notice that. Paying attention had never been his strong point. Harry was a different case. He might have noticed something was off. But he wouldn't have doubted her if she had given him a false excuse. She hoped against hopes that he didn't decide to pay her a visit with Ron.

All of a sudden, Hermione felt drowsy and tired. She pulled a small cushion from the adjoining sofa and slammed it on her face, shivering a bit as she remembered the damage her house had been in. Her head felt heavy to her and she wanted to erase the last few days from her life.

A couple of minutes later, the alarm of her fireplace rang, indicating an arrival.

After throwing the pillow away and putting on an inviting smile, she remembered she was supposed to appear sick and immediately adjusted her expression. But she realized that she didn't need to put in any effort. She actually felt sick!

"Hi, there," Ron said, managing a box in his hand. He put it aside on the carpet and turned his attention towards the floo again which rang another bell. He lifted his hand to assist a very pregnant Luna who descended down the fire grate after Ron.

"Hermione! Did we disturb you?" Luna asked her, as she took Ron's hand to lead her to the sitting area.

"Hello, you guys. No, not at all. Please, come on in," She was a bit worried when she saw Luna coming out of the fire. Luna could be very observant at the oddest times. She would have gladly accepted a visit from her any other day, but not tonight. She quickly scanned the room once again, to see if she could rearrange something.

Feeling too tired about everything, she got up to kiss them on their cheek as she welcomed them in her home.

Ron sat on the sofa chair, pulled his wife to make her sit on his lap and laid his hand protectively on her abdomen. Luna sighed in exhaustion.

"You look tired, Luna," she commented to the witch in front of her as she lowered herself on a chair opposite them.

Ron immediately tilted his neck towards his wife and frowned. He didn't realize his wife was that tired. He thought it was normal pregnancy related exhaustion. He would have never allowed her to come to their outlet in Diagon Alley had he known before.

"None less than you," Luna hummed, smiling at Hermione. "It's just this flooing and apparating. It makes me a bit queasy," she admitted. "And anyway..." she sighed. "...it's not like this will be forever."

Hermione smiled in reply.

"How are you by the way? Ron said you had been too unwell to make it for our brunch and shopping yesterday," Luna added, as she rested her head on her husband's shoulder.

"Yeah, about that. Sorry, I wasn't able to inform you prior. I had slept the day off and completely forgot about it," Hermione replied truthfully.

"That's okay. I had Ginny. We just went to buy some maternity robes for me," she indicated towards her body. "My clothes hardly fit me anymore. I keep on getting bigger and bigger."

"As you should, love," Ron whispered in her ear.

Luna turned towards him and smiled. Her eyes twinkled with appreciation.

Despite her exhaustion, Hermione couldn't help but feel a genuine smile tugging at her lips at the loving couple. They looked so happy together. It had been a good decision of Ron and hers to end their relationship. Mrs Weasley had been right. People jumped into hasty relationships during wars. Although her and Ron's relationship was not rushed cause of the war, but it had still been forced. They both had liked each other, but somehow things had not worked out between them. She was glad that Ron had asked her to remain friends, for he had been a good friend to her and she genuinely wanted him to be a part of her life.

She remembered how excited Ron had been when he had told her and Harry about his date with Luna. They had met at the Wizarding Newspaper's Annual Summit in London which had been covering an article on some of the famous Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes products and Luna was invited as the daughter of the editor of the scandalous tabloid 'The Quibbler.' Things had instantly clicked between them and by evening Ron had summed up his courage to officially ask her out on a date.

Hermione smiled in appreciation at the obviously in love couple sitting in front of her.

"Can I get you guys something?" Hermione asked them, secretly wishing that they would decline her offer.

"Nah, we're good. We came to see how you were fairing," Ron replied. "By the way, I had come to your office today."

"To deliver the Broom Broom Kit to Anthony," he added, as he saw Hermione raise her eyebrows in question.

Hermione nodded and leaned on the pillow. She momentarily closed her eyes and let out a sigh.

"You look awful, Hermione," Ron expressed, taking one look at her tired face.

"It's the cold. Plus, I really wanted to take a day off. Was too tired," she yawned her reply.

"Did you take your potion?" he asked her, gently stroking his wife's back who sighed in pleasure, causing him to turn to look down at her and smile.

"It's just a cold. It'll go in a jiffy. I don't want to make a potion just for that," Hermione replied, rolling her eyes.

He frowned at her. "I thought you had Scrofungulus."

"I thought your secretary- what's her name again? Melanie, right, mentioned you had Scrofungulus," he wondered out loud.

Her eyes immediately widened and she sat up straight. That slime git. He had the audacity to give her some vicious deadly disease.

"Oh yes! That!" Hermione recalled. "I took my potion. Don't worry, it's not contagious anymore," she added gesturing towards Luna, who at the moment was lightly snoring with her mouth open.

"I thought you were talking about something else..." Hermione put in, slightly shaking her head. Things she had to do to cover up _one_ lie.

"I know it's not contagious anymore." He gave a throaty chuckle and watched her as she brought her knees closer to her body.

"You should look after yourself, Hermione. You look really tired."

 _You have no idea._ "I will, Ron. Thanks."

"By the way, can you do me a favour? Can you give this package to your secretary when you return to work?" he asked, picking up the box and handing it over.

"She wanted something from our shop. I would have sent someone to deliver, but George's working at Hogsmeade branch and I've an international party visiting us tomorrow. So I can't really afford to send the staff away."

"Sure, no problem," Hermione replied, leaning forward to place the box on the centre table, then deciding against it and keeping it next to her chair on the floor.

"What's in it, Ron?" she asked him. The box had been extremely light in weight. And knowing its origin, she doubted it could be anything safe.

"Love potion," Ron shrugged.

Hermione sat back and exhaled deeply. _Young witches and their love affairs._

Ron looked at the box she had placed on the floor and suddenly remembered. "You won't believe who I saw in your office today!" he exclaimed.

Obviously, she knew. But she couldn't just name him, could she? She had to show ignorance. She couldn't say, _'Ten galleons say, I get the name right!'_

"I dunno." She pretended to scratch her head. "Neville?" She took the first name that popped in her mind.

Ron laughed. "That would have made your day. No, not him. Try again."

"Seamus?"

"No."

"Hannah?"

"No."

Hermione sighed. She was getting irritated now.

"Who then?"

"Malfoy," Ron vomited his name.

Hermione felt like she had missed a step when she heard his name. Ignoring the fact that the blond was just outside the door, she concentrated on replying to her friend.

"What?" she feigned anger. "What was he doing there?"

"He wanted to have a word with Anthony," Ron smirked, glad at Hermione's reaction.

"But it didn't look like it, if you ask me. I think he was trying his luck with your secretary," he speculated, rubbing his jaw on his wife's head.

"You should probably check her blood status, Hermione. To see if she's pure enough for Malfoy junior," he joked.

Hermione suddenly sat upright and experienced a severe pounding in her head. Pinching the bridge between her eyebrows and ignoring his blood status remark, she asked him, "Melanie? Isn't she too young for him? I mean she just graduated from Hogwarts."

"What does that have to do with anything? In fact, it's a bit advantageous at times. She might still have her school uniform. If you know what I mean." He grinned at her unashamedly.

Hermione cast him a disgusted look and chose to not reprimand him.

Pitying over the fact that Harry wasn't nearby to back him up, Ron quickly sobered down. "If I were you, I'd ask her to stay away from him, Hermione. We wouldn't want even the foulest soul to get involved with him. Maybe Myrtle would be interested in him," Ron demurred. "And they did spend some quality time together in out sixth-" He shut up as he saw Hermione glaring at him

"That's her choice, Ron. I can't allow or disallow her for anything she does in her personal life. As long as it doesn't affect my work, I don't care," Hermione proclaimed. "But she should definitely try someone of her age," she added, disapprovingly.

"Hmm, maybe," Ron replied to placate her. He readjusted himself and Luna snuggled closer to him in her sleep.

"She really looks tired," Hermione said, as she saw the woman doze off on her friend's lap.

"I didn't realize that," Ron said apologetically. "I wouldn't have brought her along or else," he frowned guiltiy as he tried to get up from his seat and securely hold his wife at the same time.

"She gets quite moody too, nowadays. And that's saying something," he chuckled.

"Here, let me help you," Hermione went to hold Luna but Ron had already stood and pulled her back towards him.

"I think we'll leave now. You sure you don't want anything? I can ask Ginny to stop by," Ron asked her, steadying Luna in his arms.

"Nah, not required. I'll be back on my feet tomorrow," Hermione affirmed, walking towards the door.

"I know you will," he replied, as he kissed her head and walked out of the open door Hermione was holding for them. "You won't let something as lethal as Scrofungulus affect your work."

Hermione smacked his head and laughed off. "Probably."

She assisted him to have a firm grip on his now drooling wife and bid them adieu.

"G'Night."

"Night, Ron. Take care of Luna."

"I will."

The couple disapparated from her front porch and Hermione shut the door behind her. No sooner had she sat that she found Malfoy opening the front door and barging in.

"Let's go," he dominated, standing at the door.

She sighed and got up from the chair. She glanced at her house again and walked towards him. He already had his back towards her and didn't even turn to see if she had followed his order.

"Malfoy, I think we should block the floo. I don't want anyone else to drop by," Hermione said, eyeing the fireplace.

Without showing any indication that he had heard her, Draco entered her living room to walk towards her fireplace. He blocked her floo network as she had suggested and stomped towards the door again.

When she stood next to him to gauge his reaction, he simply grabbed hold of her wrist without even bothering to look at her and apparated them back to Highfield.

Before she could rearrange her windswept robe back to its place, Draco made his way towards the staircase leaving her alone in his empty salon.


	13. In Purgatory's Shadows

**Edited** **by: _Frogster_**

* * *

 **In Purgatory's Shadows**

Draco walked his way through the long corridor of the Ministry lost in his own train of thoughts. He was so distracted that he didn't even realize the impolite stares he was receiving as he made his way to the far end of the corridor. After reaching his destination, he knocked and politely waited to gain entrance.

"Enter." a deep, slow voice reached his ears.

He edged in and closed the door shut behind him. The influential wizard sat still as a statue watching Draco move from behind his desk. "This better be important," the man warned, finally putting aside his Daily Prophet and peering over him with curiosity.

"It is," Draco assured, as the former occupant gestured for him to sit. "It's about Hermione Granger, Minister," he clarified, taking a seat in front of the senior wizard. He crossed his legs and looked straight in the wizard's eye as he responded.

The dark sorcerer's eyebrows gathered in puzzlement.

"I believe her life is in danger," Draco said, straightforwardly.

Hawk-like brown eyes scrutinized the cold grey ones, studying him intently.

"Your reasons?"

Draco sat a little straight in his chair and reported how he had found her jumping off a cliff at midnight. He didn't leave anything out and even mentioned that he had confiscated her wand. He expressed his hesitation of letting her go after learning that she lived alone. When he reached the part where she forced him to take her to Rosehill Cottage before Ron Weasley turned up, he waited to gauge the Minister's reaction. The senior wizard didn't show any outward take and motioned for Draco to continue. Without further hesitation, Draco continued with his accounting and explained the state of her house and her request for not involving Potter.

With the latest turn of events, Draco decided he had had enough of Hermione Granger. He was interested to know what she was up to, but certainly not in an obsessive way. If she wished to be an easy target and get herself killed, it was her choice. He feared that if word ever got out that he was somehow involved in Granger's folly dallying, he would find himself in an awkward position giving people the opportunity to question his alliance. His pulse quickened at that very thought.

Last night, he had made up his mind to talk to the Minister- the only person he could turn to without any hesitation; who as an Auror himself would understand the gravity of the situation.

Kingsley listened to the wizard in front of him over steepled fingers. He was taken aback with Malfoy's narration. When he had received an owl from him insisting on an audience, he assumed it to be regarding some new breakthrough in one of their cases. He wasn't expecting to hear about Hermione's escapade. He was positively surprised when Draco mentioned that he had taken her with him against her will. The more he listened to him, the more it sounded far-fetched. This did not sound like the Hermione Granger he knew.

But if Kingsley had learnt anything in all these years, it was to choose his men wisely. And he trusted them. With his life. He wasn't a man to hold a grudge against someone based on their former actions. Severus Snape had taught him that a man was not defined by his past. Plus, he knew Draco Malfoy. He had observed him over the years. More closely than even he was aware. There was no doubt that he was speaking the truth. He was an honest Auror thriving to prove his worth.

"Did you question her?" he asked him.

"She refuses to give acceptable justification for her near suicide attempt and claims to have no knowledge about her destroyed property," Draco stated without blinking an eyelid. He sat straight in his chair expecting a good round of counter questioning from the Minister.

He wasn't disappointed.

"Was anything stolen from her house?" Kingsley put forward, accepting his claim for Hermione's dubious behaviour. He was unwittingly drumming his fingers on the desk as he waited for Draco's reply.

Draco mulled over his question rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don't think so," he finally replied. "I think the destruction was done to scare her," Draco inserted. He couldn't give a reason why he felt that, but he was sure it was not done to steal something. It seemed to be done in some sort of vengeance. He didn't think Granger was lucky for being away at the time of attack. He thought it was just well timed. Whoever had done it, knew the witch wasn't home.

"What about her wand?" the Minister asked.

"Checked. The usual spells. No sign of fight or struggle." Kingsley nodded and snapped his fingers to summon a tray of tea cups on the desk, pondering over Malfoy's assessment. Draco pulled the tray towards him and placed the cups in front of his senior and himself.

The silence stretched between them and Draco waited for Kingsley to question him further. When he didn't, he mentioned what further information he had gathered. "There is one more thing," Draco said, leaning further on the desk.

One black eyebrow quirked in response. "Cecily Zabini recently turned a widow again. Apart from gold, she gained another property in Wiltshire."

"No doubt about that," the Minister murmured, picking up his tea and taking a sip. His eyes looked distant over the rim, recalling the time when he had last seen Cecily.

Everyone in the wizarding world knew about the evergreen Cecily Zabini and the arcane deaths of her husbands. It would be a lie to say he didn't fancy her back in his days. He remembered, once, on a dare from his friends, he had asked the beautiful witch for a date.

Fortunately though, he had lacked not only the flirtatious manners to woo her, but also gold, which had made him seem less worthy in her eyes. But he wasn't complaining about it. He was more than glad to be alive than being a dead wizard's portrait in his ancestral home.

If given a choice he would prefer dying in a duel than due to some treacherous woman.

He was brought back to the present when he heard Draco lift the cinnamon jar to add a stick to his tea.

"Her eighth husband's funeral would have been a quiet affair had it not been for Cecily Zabini's grandson who innocently mentioned in front of the family that he had seen her slip some potion in her husband's drink," Draco divulged, closing the lid of the container.

"Finally," the Minister commented, smacking his lips.

Draco slightly nodded grabbing a spoon to stir his tea and continued further, "Her stepson filed a case against her putting a stop to her claim on property and gold. She is currently out on bail since the only witness - her own grandson, is a minor."

Kingsley scratched his eyebrow in frustration and grimaced. "Hermione working on this case?" he asked, already guessing the answer.

"From the beginning. Cecily believes that it was because of Granger that the Council was reluctant to grant her bail. On her way out of the court room when Cecily saw Granger, she threatened her with dire consequences. It is said that Granger laughed rather rudely at her commination and dismissed her."

Kingsley let out a sigh. Of course she took it casually.

"There's more. Our informer at Gringotts tipped off that Cecily exchanged some gold for Muggle money from the bank last week."

"Oh?"

"On digging dirt it was noticed that the same currency was deposited in some muggle's bank account in Wiltshire itself."

Kingsley pursed his lips and tsked. This was messy. He thought he had an inkling of what that muggle might have been given money for. "When is the Wizengamot's trial for this case?" he asked Draco. For although he was a member of the Wizengamot, he had not received the papers of her case yet.

"Date not assigned," Draco informed him lifting the cup to his lips. He wasn't really in a mood for tea, but he thought it would look impolite if he refused a drink from his Minister.

 _No wonder I haven't heard about it yet,_ Kingsley thought. "What about her other cases?"

"One more property dispute and three criminal cases."

Kingsley was impressed with Draco's homework. It was reporting like this he expected and encouraged from his Aurors. Being the Head of Auror Office for so many years, he knew the importance of a thorough case history.

"Your source?"

"Her secretary," Draco replied, placing his cup on the desk. He had waited for Melanie in the Ministry's gateway this morning. The unsullied witch had gone scarlet when he had conjured a daffodil for her. He had been extremely successful after that in gaining information regarding Hermione's work.

"Pretty?" Kingsley teased him with a slight mischievous glint in his brown eyes. He used his power to prick the 'ever-so-serious' wizard in front of him.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Irrelevant." He knew Kingsley liked to ask him such impertinent questions. They were both aware that it was just the senior wizard's superior position that held Draco from back answering him.

Kingsley chuckled.

They finished their tea and Draco waited for the Minister to question him further.

"Why didn't you report this to Potter?" Kingsley quizzed him, clearly showing disrespect towards Hermione's wish.

"He's really busy now-a-days with the Holyhead Harpies team kidnapping by that airborne muggle vehicle. He has to constantly floo back and forth to Carlisle and is hardly seen at his desk."

Kingsley sighed, remembering the case Potter was working on. So much for having a quiet life.

"It seems to be some terrorist involvement," Kingsley informed him. He casually flicked his wand and the cups disappeared. "Why the team chose to fly the muggle way than apparate is beyond me," he added, shaking his head in displeasure. "As it is I'm being pressurized by the muggle Prime Minister to look into the matter and now the wizarding world seems more than united to hail abuses against me for delaying the matter."

Draco politely nodded in understanding. He was aware about the Minister's predicament.

The Minister scratched the side of his arm, leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his head. "What do you think?" he said casually, as if asking Draco about the next day's weather.

This is why Draco admired Kingsley Shacklebolt. He was not a power hungry wizard. He listened to his team, took their opinion and then decided the course of action. He did not impose ridiculous orders without consulting his team.

"She should be watched. At least till we learn more. Whoever it is not only knows her address, but also has access to her house," Draco described.

Kingsley had already considered all these things, so he simply 'hmmed' in response.

"What about Potter?"

"That would be your call to make, sir," Draco replied with a slight bow of his head. If the Minister wanted to let Potter know, then it was his decision. His 'so-called' promise to Granger could go to Hades if it was a question of her safety and his independence from her.

He scratched his left forearm and said, "Might I add? Her parents should be provided with some form of protection. Since she is Muggle-born, her parents may not be able to defend themselves if any unfortunate incident arises," Draco put forth. "As you might be aware, Cecily Zabini is known to be rather imaginative with her, err… _past_ _work,_ " he added, indicating the widow's strategy to kill her husbands. "Until her next hearing with the Wizengamot, I think it'd be safer to provide security to Miss Granger."

Kingsley hummed at his suggestion. He had not thought of providing security. But now that Malfoy mentioned it, he decided it was better to act more than act less with whatever information they had. "Any other links?"

"Not yet."

"And the eyewitness?" Kingsley asked, indicating Cecily's grandson.

"He's already been provided security by the Ministry."

Draco took out his pocket watch to check the time. He expected Kingsley to wish to speak to Granger and was wondering if he should simply summon Ellie and ask her to bring Granger. He wasn't even a tiny bit guilty for rattling her out. He knew she didn't like his interference, but he didn't have an option. As far as he knew, he had done everything she had asked him to do, except for handing over her wand. If she thought he had sold her out, then so be it.

Last night's events had worried him into thinking about her safety. Not that he was concerned about her, he reminded himself again. He was just doing his job.

"Malfoy! Are you with me?" Kingsley's booming voice commanded for his attention.

"Yes, Minister," Draco asserted, straightening himself in the chair and pushing back his pocket watch.

"So you don't mind keeping a watch on her?"

Draco was perplexed. Watch Granger? "How discreetly would that be, sir?" he asked with a slight frown on his face. He was lightly tracing his fingers over his stubble as he considered the Minister's words.

"Zero discretion. We'll inform her of our decision."

Draco almost snorted out loud. Didn't he know her at all? If she made up her mind once, she made up her mind till the end. She was not going to be swayed. If the Minister expected her to co-operate, he should ask Potter to handle her. Draco had as much chance of succeeding with her as Longbottom had of becoming the next Minister. They would both be at logger heads and only time could tell who cursed whom first.

"I think that would be a wasted attempt, Minister," Draco rejected, as politely as he could. He folded his arms in front of his chest as he spoke. "If it's a question of extracting information from Granger, why not do it through someone she trusts? Like Potter?" Draco suggested.

Kingsley scrunched his forehead. He didn't know what Hermione's reasons were for not confiding with Potter, but if she decided he was not to be involved then he trusted her decision, for now. And besides, Potter's hands were full with the Holly Harpies.

"Potter is already working on another case, Malfoy, as you are very much aware," he reminded the Auror.

Draco shrugged. "I'll take over it. I haven't had a case with Muggle relations and this would present that opportunity to me," he pointed out.

Kingsley slammed his fist on the desk in rage. "You request me, Malfoy! You don't tell me!"

Draco's eyes widened on the Minister's angry outburst. He brushed his hair aside and placed his hands on the desk and calmly said, "Forgive my boldness, sir. I was merely suggesting a solution which could help us with bo-"

Kingsley was already shaking his head and put his hand up to stop him from talking.

 _Very well,_ Draco fumed. He didn't care who had to put up with Granger. If anything, he felt sorry for the wizard. She was not going to be easy. It was apparent that even Kingsley thought it was something serious. Considering her role in the war and her current position, she was sort of a liability to the Ministry. Had it been someone _less_ famous, they would have simply waited for something more to happen. But since it was Hermione _fucking_ Granger, he knew they couldn't turn a blind eye. Whether she liked it or not, Granger was getting help.

"Whom do you want me to hand over the details? Macmillan is not on field today. I can summon him if you want," Draco said, getting up from his seat.

"Sit _down!_ You know it's behavior like this that makes people aware of your short-comings," the Minister raged.

Draco gulped and slumped back on his chair. He avoided the Minister's gaze as he waited for the senior wizard to choose a man for the job.

Kingsley angrily studied the slouched Auror in front of him for a minute and made up his mind.

"I want you to handle this case," he finally spoke.

Draco lifted his head to stare at him in bewilderment. He shifted slightly in his chair and asked in disbelief, "You think I can make Granger talk?"

"Of course," Kingsley shrugged at him. He removed a quill and a parchment from a drawer and started writing on it.

Draco observed the Minister dumbly. He was afraid of making things worse, but he had to know. "What are you asking me to do?" Draco requested to know. His fists were clenched under the table, straining his knuckles, turning them white.

"I'm asking what are _you_ willing to do?" Kingsley replied, without looking up.

 _Nothing,_ his brain replied instantly. He let out a sigh and insisted, "I gave you the details so you could keep a close eye on her, Minister." _Not_ _the other way around._

"I see better from a distance," Kingsley replied, putting aside his quill and drying the ink with the tip of his wand.

Draco's eyes turned into slits. This was some form of torture the Minister was putting him into. He knew Kingsley was doing it to make him lose his mind. "Why me?" he mumbled, more to himself than the man in front of him.

Kingsley looked back at him for a moment and then replied in a bored tone. "You do a decent job of extracting information, you know the details of this case, you are capable of providing security. So, why not?"

Kingsley didn't add that those were not the only reasons to assign him the job. He didn't want a vain Auror on his hands. Malfoy was one of the best Aurors his team currently had. He was aggressive, cunning and resourceful. A street smart slytherin who knew how to work people well. He knew when to sweet talk a wizard with his contacts and when to intimidate him. He never wasted time dilly dallying on a case and was always up for any mission, irrespective of the danger involved. Sometimes he thought, Malfoy took dangerous assignments on purpose...

He was one of the most ruthless Aurors he knew after Alastor Moody. Plus, there was an added advantage. He was a recluse. Malfoy liked to work alone. Until some details were clearer, Kingsley wanted things hushed up.

 _This is the first time he has praised me,_ Draco thought. It would have genuinely made his day had he mentioned it some other time. But today, it just sounded bitter. _Damn you, Granger for sucking the joy out of my life!_

Shaking his head in refusal, Draco tried convincing the former Auror. "I'm not going to be the Ministry's watchdog," he argued. That sentence earned him the hardest glare Kingsley had ever given him. He imagined this is how Potter must have felt whenever Snape looked in his direction.

Kingsley stopped drying his parchment and barked, "You will be if that's the last thing you have to do. Got it?"

"I request you to consider this once again," Draco argued. He felt like kicking himself for pulling this on him.

"Request denied."

"You don't understand," he whined, rubbing his forehead. "We don't go along well. I assumed you were aware about my history with _them._ "

"I don't care how petty your fights in school were. You're an Auror and I expect you to act like one," Kingsley chastised. He was a bit surprised. This was the first time Malfoy had declined a case.

"What makes you think she will be safe with me, Minister? You know what my opinion of her-" _was._ A loud boom erupted from the Minister's wand, shutting him up.

"Silence! You will not talk me into your cunning tricks, Malfoy. You have not given me any reason till date to question your alliance. Are you implying that I should, now?" he bellowed.

Draco shook his head and kept quiet. He knew it was a cheap shot, but he had to try. He had hoped to get rid of her by informing Kingsley, who was not only an old acquaintance of hers but also the most powerful wizard in the country. He had assumed he would question Granger himself.

Now he was more stuck than before. If anything happened to her on his watch he was doomed. He cursed himself for trying to do the right thing and for going to his favourite spot that night. He cursed Granger's timing for apparating just seconds before he left. And he cursed the Minister for entrusting her case to him. He felt like pulling his hair in frustration. He just wanted to be left alone. Was it too much to ask?

He was considering the witch's reaction to this when it suddenly dawned on him. There was just one more person who would be equally unhappy about this arrangement.

Both of them hated each other on some unmentioned rule. He smirked as he remembered that. It was his last hope. But his best hope and he was sure it'd work. _Granger._

She would never agree to this. She'd bore the Minister and convince him to reconsider his decision. He suddenly felt a bit relieved. Taking out his handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the sweat from his side locks. He felt like leaning back and whistling while Granger fought for him. He had unnecessarily created a scene with the Minister and made him unhappy. He decided to clear out the air immediately.

"Forgive me, Minister. I got carried away," he replied. He almost smiled and caught himself before his lips twitched.

Kingsley waved his hand in dismissal and asked him to summon Hermione. Draco called his elf and ordered her to bring Hermione. "Tell her her services are required in the Ministry. She'll co-operate." Draco couldn't help but smile a little at his words. Her services definitely were required.

He got up from his chair and walked towards the window on the opposite wall. He leaned against it, his back towards the outside view, crossing his arms and feet as he waited for Ellie. He avoided looking at the Minister directly, fearing he might accidently piss him off again.

Ellie apparated a minute later in the middle of the room holding Hermione's hand. She bowed at Draco and the Minister and disapparated by snapping her fingers.

"Malfoy, what is this? Kingsl-Minister, what a surprise!" Hermione croacked. Her eyes widened in fear as she saw Kingsley looking grimly at her.

She immediately turned towards Draco and scowled at him. _He didn't._

Draco merely shrugged at her, not denying her accusation and directed his gaze towards the Minister.

Hermione turned back and walked towards the desk. "May I?" she requested, pulling the chair back which Draco had just vacated.

Kingsley nodded and waited for her to sit down.

"To what do I owe this, err… _visit_ , Minister?" she puzzled, as she adjusted her robe.

She looked up after a minute when he didn't answer.

"What's going on Hermione?" Kingsley asked her calmly. He folded his arms and stared down at her from his superior stature.

Hermione's heartbeat quickened as she realized what Malfoy had done. She suddenly wished she had not listened to Ellie. She quickly turned to look at Malfoy who simply stared back at her.

"I'm not sure what Malfoy has been telling you, Minister. But you know I'm not suicidal, don't you?" Hermione sassed, still not averting her gaze from Malfoy. _The nerve of him._

Kingsley sighed and resounded, "Believe me. Nobody in this room thinks you're suicidal."

 _You're in for some surprise though, Granger,_ Draco thought, smiling to himself.

Hermione turned her head towards the Minister and crossed her legs. "I don't understand."

Kingsley's patience was hanging by a thin thread now. "I'll make you understand," he replied, smilingly. "Imagine, you have put in a long day and are woken up early in the morning by a ruddy owl with a letter from an Auror insisting on a meeting. You accept of course, assuming it's related to work. Then you turn up for this meeting and you hear about an old acquaintance's near brush with death."

Hermione gulped. Kingsley waved his hand and continued, "But that's not all. You further learn that this said acquaintance's house has not only been destroyed but now she also refuses to co-operate. That makes me worry, Hermione. Quiet worried," he added, shaking his head in dismay. "Now do you understand?" his dark brown eyes looking closely at her.

"Kingsley, it's not that. There's nothing to say. I really don't have any idea about Rosehill Cottage. I have been trying to explain him this, but it refuses to enter his thick-" she reasoned, surveying Draco once over her left shoulder.

"And you slipped off the cliff, didn't you, Granger? While picking up silverweed at midnight," Draco taunted, cutting her.

She ignored his jibe and turned her attention towards the wizard in front of him.

"Can you tell me what's going on, Hermione?" Kingsley asked her firmly.

Hermione let out a sigh and rubbed her eyes with her palms.

How could she tell him when she herself didn't know. Couldn't they just leave her and let her control her own life? She knew Kingsley wouldn't tell Harry if she asked him. But this hardly made sense. He was the Minister of Magic and this was a trivial matter. She didn't need his help to sort out her affairs. When she had enough answers of her own that time she'd gladly inform him and accept his help. But not a day before.

"There's nothing going on in my life. I'm sorry, Minister, there's nothing to say," she concluded.

"Very well, Hermione," Kingsley said. He smiled a bit. "I accept your answer. Although I have a tiny request to make which I'm sure, you won't deny."

Hermione heaved a sigh of relief on hearing his reply. She was glad the Minister wasn't pestering her as Malfoy had been doing for the past several days.

"What might that request be?"

Draco smirked in the corner. _Here come the fireworks!_

"I want you to accept security for a while. I know-" he raised his palm, gesturing her to not interrupt him, "-you don't want it, but that is my wish."

He indicated her to speak with his hand and she burst out immediately.

"I don't think that's necessary, Minister. You know I can manage myself well. I don't think I have to mention that."

"Of course not. I know your capabilities. But it's my sincere request."

"I'm sorry, Kingsley," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "There is no need for that."

"If Mr. Malfoy could be kind enough to return my wand, I'd like to be on my way now."

"He'll return it when I ask him to, Miss Granger," Kingsley spoke, addressing her formally. He was quickly becoming annoyed with the pair of them. He didn't believe for a minute that Malfoy had readily accepted his command. He was using Hermione to refuse his order. _Cunning bastard._

Hermione opened her mouth to retort when Kingsley's rebuttal stopped her. "Enough."

She was a bit shocked to be dismissed like this. She closed her mouth and frowned at him instead.

"Malfoy here told me you wish to exclude Potter from this, is that what you want?"

"Yes."

"Then I believe you have no choice in this. You have your freedom for refusing personal information and I have my right of providing security to whoever I want. Potter or security, Hermione? What is important to you?"

Hermione considered his threat.

"Very well, I accept."

She heard Malfoy's sharply drawn breath and rolled her eyes. _Jackass._

He strode forwards and looked at her with something close to shock. "That's it? You-you _accept?_ Are you insane?"

She merely shrugged at him, assuming this was something between her and the Minister. "You can send your men to Rosehill Cottage, Minister. I'll return back to the Cottage in an hour," she replied, getting up from the chair.

"Not men, Hermione. Just Mr. Malfoy."

"WHAT?" said Hermione, startled, stumbling at the foot end of the chair as she rose. Malfoy grabbed her shoulders keeping her from falling face forwards on the stone floor. She pushed back on his arms and turned towards the sitting wizard.

" _This_ Malfoy?" she asked, pointing her thumb towards Draco who was standing behind her.

Draco's lip curled in indignation. "I think I'm the only Malfoy working with the Ministry, Granger. Unless you _desire_ for my father's _protection_ , I suggest you stop talking."

Hermione rounded at him with her hands on her hips. She did not miss the double entendre of his words. "What did you say?" she spat.

"Quiet, you two! Malfoy, wait outside for a minute." Kingsley pointed his wand at the door and waited till the angry wizard paddled outside. "Hermione, this is unacceptable," he said, shaking his head once the for had slammed shut.

"You-you appointed, Malfoy, Kingsley. Malfoy?" she shrieked. "You know how he is! I don't mean any disrespect. No, actually, I do. It's Malfoy! You can't be serious!"

"Hermione, you're babbling," Kingsley said kindly, as he got up from his chair. "Do you not trust him?"

She knew Kingsley was asking her opinion in what context and didn't hesitate to answer him. "I don't doubt him."

"Exactly! He did what any Auror would have done. He is one of the best in my team," he confided in her.

That earned him a snort in return which he kindly ignored.

"I'm guessing since you don't want Potter to know the same rule extends towards Arthur and his family?"

"Yes. I don't want them to worry. Any of them."

"Very well," Kingsley replied pulling her back towards the chair and making her sit. He conjured another chair and sat next to her.

"I heard of your encounter with Cecily Zabini. Did she threaten you?" Hermione visibly cringed. She didn't think Kingsley had heard of it. "It was nothing...nothing new," Hermione said, dismissing the topic.

"She is currently out on bail, isn't she?"

Hermione nodded in reply.

"Listen carefully, Hermione. I know Cecily. Do not take her lightly. She is a self indulgent witch who can stoop to any level to get what she wants. I'm sure you're aware of the fate of her late husbands?"

Hermione nodded again.

"The Wizengamot didn't find a single clue against her even once. She knows you're working for the opposition and it will be foolish to expect her to act openly. She'll stab you in the back."

He conjured a glass of water and after she had gulped it down, he said, "It seems you have made a rather formidable enemy this time and although I trust your skills, it would give this old man better sleep to know you are safe."

She shook her head in resignation. _You're not that old, Kingsley._

"Malfoy will help you out. If he gives you hard time you report to me." Hermione pursed her lips. She wanted him to try. She would kill him. Without any guilt.

"Kingsley, it's not just that. I'm a single witch and he is an unattached wizard. If word got out on this, my reputa-"

"And that's why this will be between the three of us, am I clear?" he said, cutting her.

Kingsley waited till she accepted his decision and went out to summon Malfoy who was sulking outside in the corridor.

"Miss Granger has accepted the Ministry's protection, Malfoy," he informed Draco as he made his way behind the desk. "I want you to return her her wand. However, if Miss Granger decides to hide from the Ministry, I allow you to use force to get her to safety," he added as he sat on his chair and surveyed Hermione to see if she objected.

Draco couldn't believe his ears. The senior wizard was an old wretch for making them both agree. He turned to look at Granger who looked like she had just had a bottle of skele-gro.

"Minister, are you sure of this?" Hermione said, nervously, biting her lower lip in process.

"Yeah, are you?" Draco jibed, stepping forward, his hands in his pockets.

Kingsley studied them both and growled, "Let me explain your options, you two. Either you do it, you do it or you do it," he said, ticking off his fingers.

He dismissed them from his office and listened to their bickering in amusement as they left. He felt like he had already put in a long day and stretched his tired back muscles as he got up from his chair.

He snapped his fingers and a bottle of Schletters finewhisky appeared at his desk. He conjured a glass and poured himself a decent amount of whisky and gulped it down in one go.

"That went well," Lorcan McLaird; one of the former Minister said to Kingsley from his portrait, amidst puffs of smoke from his tobacco pipe.

* * *

They flooed back to Highfield after their visit to the Ministry.

Hermione immediately rounded at him and demanded her wand. Muttering to himself, Draco went upstairs to fetch it and found Hermione waiting near the main entrance.

"You know, you can sleep there if you want. That rug's new," Draco snickered, before handing over her wand.

Hermione snatched it from him and let out a sigh of relief. She twisted her wrist once-twice to feel the warmth of her wand before pointing it at Draco.

"You were saying?"

Draco rolled his eyes and went towards the lounge chair. He shouted for Ellie to bring him a drink as he rested his body against the chair.

"Aren't you packing?" Hermione asked, walking towards him. He had his eyes closed as he awaited his drink.

Draco opened his left eye and considered her.

"Why?"

"You heard the Minister. You're protecting me. We're going to my cottage," she replied, folding her hands below her chest.

Draco glanced at her and sniggered. "I'm protecting you, not your silly cottage. We're staying here," he snapped.

"I'm going to talk to Kingsley tomorrow about this," Hermione replied, indicating that she was not letting the matter drop.

"Talk away," Draco said, closing his eyes and dismissing her.

She parted from him and started climbing the stairs to get to her temporary room when she heard Draco call out her name.

"Oi! Granger! Come back here."

She stopped and turned to look at him. "What?"

"We need to discuss some things," he replied, accepting his drink from the elf.

She descended down the stairs and leaned on the banister.

"Yes?" she whined in frustration, as he took his time sipping his drink.

He licked his lips lightly, savoring the taste and said, "You don't go anywhere out of the Ministry without informing me. If you have to, you send me a memo at least fifteen minutes prior and wait for me at your office. If I'm late, you cancel your outing."

Her eyebrow twitched in reply.

"If anyone asks, you're helping me provide legal aid to one of my properties in Devon."

She didn't comment on his suggestion for her mind was already on a different topic. She was planning to meet Luna for ditching her earlier this week. She wanted to spend some time with her friend and had no wish to cancel on her again. She was wondering if she could sneak out at lunch tomorrow without his knowledge, when he spoke, on cue.

"No sneaking out without informing me, or else..." his voice trailed off, as he warned her with an unsaid threat of facing dire consequences.

"Or else what? What will you do?" Hermione asked him, boldly walking towards him.

Her hand rested in her pocket where he knew she was holding her wand he had just returned.

"Are you challenging me, Granger?" he asked, putting aside his glass on the side table and standing up to his full height looming over her. His voice was hard enough to frighten her. If they were doing this it would be according to him. And that was that. He waited for her to back down. For her to cringe.

"I am challenging you," Hermione announced, taking another step towards him.

He looked incredulously at her.

Hermione clenched her wand firmly deciding on a spell to rid that superior look from his face. She reminded herself that he wouldn't be an easy house mate if she cursed him. Plus, there was a high chance for them both to end up in St. Mungo's!

Shaking her head at how quickly the blond made her lose temper, she turned back and started walking towards the stairs.

"Granger!" he drawled, wiping his mouth across his sleeve.

Hermione stopped but did not turn. _What now?_

"I did not give you permission to leave," he slowly enunciated. He was determined to make her understand her place.

Her back stiffened in reply. She quietly turned, gave him the most insincere smile any witch had ever given him and returned her answer with the same exaggerated tone. "I-did-not-ask-for-it!"

* * *

For the next several days, Kingsley Shacklebolt was paid visit by both the Auror and the Lawyer who wanted him to know how miserable his decision had made them.

The very next day after ordering them together, he was visited by Hermione who was muttering about having to live with an inconsiderate mule.

"I can't stay at his house, Minister. I have all my work related documents at home. You have to tell him to come to Rosehill Cottage," she had fumed, declining his offer to sit.

"His residence will provide you better security, Hermione. If he thinks it's safe to live there, then I support his decision."

She had spluttered something about not being able to trust a single wizard nowadays, before storming away.

* * *

The next day Draco had been polite enough to drop a memo about his visit, half a minute before he barged into his office.

"She tries to sneak away, Minister. I've warned her, but she simply informs me a minute before leaving. She's testing my patience!" Draco had raged.

Kingsley let out a sigh. It was his patience that was being tested. "Follow her closely, Malfoy. We knew she'd be difficult about this."

They had discussed about the latest information he had gathered from her secetary before he left.

* * *

On Wednesday, Draco made his way towards the Minister's office when he saw Hermione exiting his cabin, looking irate.

"Damn you, Malfoy!" she had growled, as she brushed past him towards the lift. She had gone to request Kingsley to assign another Auror who could provide her security. Kingsley had flatly refused saying it was not her decision to make.

As she closed the door, she saw him walk towards the Minister's chamber, giving, no doubt, a report related to her. She couldn't help, but curse him, as he walked in her direction.

"Damn your timing, Granger," Draco retorted with the same vehemence, stepping inside the office.

Kingsley saw Draco standing near the door Granger had just closed. He scowled at the wizard and said in a manner of greeting, "What now?"

"Good morning, sir," he replied, as he sat in front of him.

Kingsley mumbled an exhausted 'morning' in reply and folded his half-read newspaper.

"I need your permission with something. I think that could help us with Granger's case," he said.

Kingsley's eyebrows gathered in confusion as he considered the wizard's words. _Permission? For what?_

"Yes?" he asked.

"I need your permission to use veritaserum on Granger."

Kingsley snorted, shaking his head, declining Draco's suggestion.

"Please hear me out, sir," Draco forced, placing both his hands on the desk. "I think Granger is hiding something. And veritaserum can help us here. It will fasten the process." _I can get rid of her._

Kingsley wanted to chastise the wizard for the suggestion but he couldn't help laugh at his desperation level. _They must really hate each other._

He was a bit amused and frustrated with the pair of them. He had met them more in the past couple of days than in an entire year. They seem to have new things to complain about each other every other day.

"Tell me, Malfoy, if I give you permission to use a banned potion on a wizard, why am I paying you? I might as well do it myself and close the case."

"But Minister..." Draco put, leaning forward, "…it would definitely speed up the process. I won't ask her personal questions. Just related to the case. I'll give you the memory of the interrogation if you want."

Kingsley's voice hardened as he replied vexedly. "The answer is no, Malfoy. I won't give you permission to use veritaserum on _anyone_. I won't do a Fudge and make blinded decisions. You have to do this yourself," he said, shaking his head at Draco, stressing his denial.

"The woman is wild, sir," Draco groaned. "Yesterday, she informed me that she was heading over to Diagon Alley for lunch. When I reached there, she told me she wasn't hungry anymore and returned back to the Ministry. She's driving me crazy."

"Don't they all," a voice hummed behind him.

Draco turned his head to see a former Minister- Maximillian Crowdy smirk at him from his portrait. He ignored the portrait and turned his attention back to Kingsley, "She's the most stubborn, opinionated witch I've ever seen. I-I lose my control when she's around," he complained.

"Now, now, laddie, that's not how a wizard should be," said Lorcan McLaird next from his portrait. "If you can't control, you know- your _problem_ , maybe you should go to St. Mungo's. I'm sure they have some-"

Draco blushed slightly and cut him, "That's not what I meant. I mean, I can't think straight when she's around."

"Well, it certainly looks like he thinks with his member and not his head. He's constantly talking of her whenever he's here," called another voice.

"That's cause, she's my case!" Draco argued, turning back to find the offending portrait. "He assigned her to me," he grumbled, flicking his neck in Kingsley's direction. "And I do not think with my- my "member.""

"Then show her who's the boss, son."

"Yeah, show her," several other Ex-Ministers chanted from their portraits, clearly indicating that they had heard the conversation.

"Don't let her boss you," added Hector Fawley, aggressively pumping his fist.

"She never bosses me! I never let her," Draco denied, looking offended. Granger could boss the rugrats like Weasley and Potter but never him.

"Good, so you can handle her then," challenged Dugald McPhail, walking closer to the frame of his portrait to peer over Draco.

"Of course, I can. I just don't want this case," Draco fumed.

"Cause you can't control yourself in front of her," gloated Lorcan McLaird, in mock understanding, turning his own words back at him.

Draco stared icily at them all and suddenly realized that the Minister had not spoken a single word in all this. He turned his back towards the snickering portraits and viewed his reaction.

"Don't look at me!" Kingsley replied, "You're doing a fine job mucking things up," he added, fighting back his laughter.

"Now _that_ …" smiled Kingsley, getting up from his chair after Draco had left several minutes later, to walk towards the portrait of McLaird, who gave him a thumbs up and a wink and said, "…went well."


	14. The Prying Game

**Edited** **by: _Frogster_**

* * *

 **The Prying Game**

He strutted arrogantly towards the drive of the bordello, his foul mood darkening, as he was greeted with the sharp lingering sweetness of perfume. Ignoring the sentinel's salutation, Draco made his way to the end of the room and entered the divertissement section.

As soon as he entered, girls instantly started swarming around him, competing for his attention.

Rejecting them as he usually did, Draco couldn't help but be irked at their salacious language.

He hated these amateurs. Especially the ones who talked. If they couldn't do their "job" properly, they shouldn't be there. Nobody had forced them for this path of career. Unlike him they didn't owe the world a chance at redemption. In fact, he was sure that the reason they were here, was cause they enjoyed their work.

As he whisked off a few persistent fingers from his forearm and started climbing the stairs, he heard them whispering.

They were all under the impression that he liked to try new things. Some new girl once a while. Well, he wasn't opposed to that, per se, but he was opposed to their nonsense of purring and dirty talking.

At sundown of a horrible day, when he'd have finished a pile load of shit and still have the same amount left for the next day, he'd simply crave for some one on one action. To lose himself in another. A dripping quim and an eager mouth from any one of them.

But what he got instead were some fake giggles, some bold attempt to grope him and few obscene suggestions of where he could stick his cock in their what's.

Draco didn't have any interest to listen to their paltry attempts of concern or to their hushed tones of how the most eligibly ineligible bachelor of wizarding Britain, visited them.

And that's why he usually preferred Vi. She'd simply give him what he took fancy for. Without the fake seduction. 'You want my mouth? Let me get in place,' she'd say. Or, if he felt like shagging her, she'd simply ask him, 'Should I ride you or should I get on my back?'

There were even times between them when he'd just crave for a drink and she'd pose: 'Would that be a straight up or should I just get the bottle?' before following his orders.

She didn't sweet talk him and that saved both his and her valuable time.

Walking quickly past the ladies, Draco entered the third door on reaching the landing. He flicked the candles to shimmer and removed his black cloak to toss it on the shady sofa. Unbuttoning his white shirt, he accioed a bottle of firewhisky from an open shelf and sank low on the couch, gulping down a mouthful of its content. He savored the moment's bliss by shutting his eyes as his throat accepted the warm tingling sensation.

A few quiet seconds later, he glanced around the room, his mind registering that he was one of the few individuals who were allowed entry in her private chamber.

Vi usually entertained her guests in one of the special rooms downstairs depending on the client's fantasy.

The rooms were specially designed and could be turned into an office, a dark dungeon or even a pavement of Diagon Alley among several other scenarios. The more absurd the fetish, the more number of galleons the witch made.

He smirked as he recalled how he had once spied his coworker request for Kings Cross platform 9 ¾ before summoning not one but three girls towards him.

Draco knew he wasn't that perverted and wanted just the physical gratification from them, sans the emotional attachment.

And Vi was rather good at providing it.

After he'd pour himself in her, he'd experience a moment's calmness. His brain would stop worrying for a few moments; until he had recuperated. Once he was calm, he'd remember his worthless life and he'd start getting dressed.

A few minutes was all he got. For his Nirvana. And tonight, he needed that again.

Draining the bottle, Draco heard the opening and closing of the door he had gained entrance from.

"Oh it's you," the new voice called from the doorway.

Without bothering to look at her, Draco raised his bottle in acknowledgement.

The witch's heels clinked on the wooden floor as she walked in his peripheral vision. She removed his discarded cloak and placed it on a nearby chair, making herself comfortable next to him.

Resting her head on his extended hand on the back of the sofa, the witch turned to peer over him.

"Rough day?" she finally voiced, after Draco had finished emptying his second bottle without a word to her.

 _More like rough week,_ Draco thought.

The blonde witch continued studying him, knowing better than to question him again.

After a while, Draco cast his third bottle aside and widened his legs. Snapping his fingers, he motioned for her to sit between them.

Vi pushed herself from the seat, kicked off her sandals and slithered out of her negligee, working them down her heavy bosom and waist, knowing that he was watching her every move. She was unhooking her bra when he stopped her with a firm shake of his head.

Giving him a sensual smile, she sank between his legs, rubbing his right thigh.

"I don't have much time today," Draco stated, his fingers stroking the hair on her head.

The witch nodded in return and her manicured hands gently pulled him free from the confinements of his pants, in front of her painted face.

She noticed that his dick was not even fully awake yet and knew that she'd be handsomely rewarded for her work later. Looking at his face, she closed her hand around his shaft and took it as a positive sign when his cock twitched in response.

She continued stroking him for a few minutes, making him groan in appreciation. Once she felt his cock turn into an iron pole under her ministrations, she moved to his balls, rubbing and weighing them with her thumb and palm.

A small bit of moisture leaked from the tip of his dick and she immediately sought his permission to do more.

Taking his heightened breath as an indicator, she slipped his tip into her mouth and sucked it like a straw.

Draco growled in response and tightened his hold on her hair, pulling her face to his now over enthusiastic knob.

Vi pressed his cock as deeply into her mouth as she could manage, gagging herself slightly as it hit the back of her throat.

His hands moved to the sides of her face as she slowly slid his swollen cock out and then back in again, playing her own game of peek-a-boo with it.

Draco watched her through half-lidded eyes, knowing that his tranquility was just a few seconds away.

When he felt her fingers rub the underside of his balls, he felt them tighten and grunted as his orgasm finally hit him. He continued holding her head as his hips spasmed spastically into her face.

Ever the thirsty, Vi took every drop of his seed and withdrew herself only when his fingers had left her face.

Breathing frantically, Draco crashed on the sofa when the last aftershocks from his body had subsided. He felt wonderfully stuporous and letting all thoughts leave his body, he took deep breaths.

Aware of the younger Malfoy's habit of sitting in solitude, Vi quietly moved away. She padded towards her closet and pulled a heavy coat to cover her naked body. Draping it on her shoulders, the witch sank on the bed, refreshed her mouth with her wand and summoned an old bottle of sherry for her to gulp from.

She observed Draco's rapid breathing turn into quiet exhalation and his relaxed face slowly contort in pain and knew that he'd be soon getting ready to call it a day.

Draco opened his eyes once his heartbeat had normalized and started adjusting his pants, pulling a small bag of galleons in process.

He got up from the sofa and eyed the witch who was enjoying her bottle without a tinge of worry on her face. Walking towards the mirror, he finger combed his hair and watched her lazy pose as she took another nip of her sherry.

He felt a pang of jealousy at her relaxed state and did a double take when he spotted her coat.

The memory of his fight with Granger from last week immediately sprang to his mind, making his jaw twitch indignantly in return.

Last Friday, he had simply asked the bitch to not clutter his lounge with her stuff. She had then pretended to be engrossed in some stupid book, ignoring him completely.

Her attention was definitely aroused when he had thrown her disgusting coat on her face, making her scream like a banshee before attacking him with a Petrificius Totalus. He had hastily cast a shield charm in defence, making him mentally thank his Auror training on quicker reflexes.

'How dare you throw my coat?' she had shrieked, stowing her coat aside herself and jumping down from the sofa.

'I'll throw it again if you don't fucking learn to keep it in your own room!' he had yelled back, blocking her stinging charm.

'I _was_ about to put it away!'

'Put it away now! I don't wish to see your stuff here.'

'Don't behave as if you're doing me a big favour,' she had growled before blocking his stunning curse.

'I _am_ doing a big favour by letting you stay here! For free! I don't want my mother to see your stuff when she visits me and think-'

'Favour? Is that what you call doing your job? And I'll pay you for your hospitality, you bastard. Just quote me a price!'

'As if you could afford paying me,' he had affronted, dodging her bat-bogey curse.

The fight that had ensued after that had ended without any fatalities only cause of the Minister's timely letter checking on their well-being.

He had been extremely tempted to use one of their Auror spells on her, when swearing loudly- to wake up even the dead, she had grabbed her coat and stomped off to his spare- _no_ , _her_ room.

Only the knowledge that Kingsley would probably use all the spells on him instead if he harmed his precious had stopped him from hexing her.

He was wondering which spell would have worked best on her when his thoughts were interrupted by Vi's soft sigh and was brought back to reality as he saw her stretching her upper body, propelling her breasts through her open coat.

His attention immediately turned towards her robe again and he noted that it was of a similar tacky fashion as that of Granger's.

He glared at the garment as its mere presence personally mocked him, reminding him of his helplessness.

"Do you want this?" Vi casually said, as she saw him eyeing her coat again.

He gave her a death glare before continuing to adjust his clothes.

Snatching his cloak, he flung the tiny bag on her dressing table and walked out of the bordello to apparate straight back to Highfield.

* * *

Normally, he'd have headed straight to bed after his session with Vi, but the latter part that had followed after his personal meeting tonight had fucked his mood.

Advancing towards his study instead, Draco grabbed a bottle of Odgen's on the way and sank on his desk chair.

He gulped down a mouthful and tried to null his brain into thoughtlessness, knowing that he'd be having a spitting headache the coming morning.

He felt the tight clasp of the coat around his neck as he swallowed the drink and in his haste to get up and loosen it, he misjudged the distance between the side table and himself and dropped the bottle on the floor.

A loud clink was emitted as the glass bottle violently broke into small pieces, the sound magnifying in the still night.

"Fucking hell," Draco swore and got up to repair the now empty bottle and lumbered to the lounge to fetch a fresh drink from the cabinet.

"M-master?" Ellie quavered in her sleep filled voice.

"Not now," Draco snapped, as he tried reading the bottle's name through his hazy, alcohol induced vision.

The sleepy elf gladly went back to her den, leaving her Master to sulk in peace.

Opening the bottle, Draco settled himself on the chaise lounge, being too tired to walk all the way over to his study.

Sampling his drink, he placed his feet on the centre table and before he could rest his eyes, he was interrupted again for the second time in mere minutes.

"Malfoy was that you?" Hermione's throaty voice called from the staircase.

He turned his head towards the stairs and saw a very sleepy Granger with her wild, disheveled mess of what she called hair, tumbled down the sides of her face in long ringlets. She stood there on the landing, clad in just her night shirt and a wand in her hand.

She let out a prodigious yawn as she waited for him to answer.

He smirked at her drowsy state when she held the hand rail for support.

"Go back to sleep, Granger," he grunted, regarding her over his bottle.

Hermione raised her hand to rub the bridge of her nose and her shirt slightly shifted, giving him an ample view of her cleavage and making him aware of her semi bare thighs.

"What the hell are you wearing?" he barked, slamming his bottle on the table, making its content fall on the surface.

"What?" she asked him in confusion, startled at his sudden angry outburst. "I thought I heard some noise, so I came to investigate," she explained, wrongly; bunching up her hair behind her head.

Her creamy night shirt rose further up and Draco could have sworn she was not wearing her brassiere when he saw the way the shirt nuzzled her areolar region as it ascended upwards. He spied light traces of small pebbular formation on the front of her shirt and he felt a strong urge of thumbing them.

Tilting his head to the right, his gaze shifted down to her stomach and he noticed the way the shirt clung to her belly. He almost missed a beat when he glimpsed her dark nether region and was sure he'd have dropped the bottle again in his astonishment, had he been holding it.

Draco found himself speculating whether the dark shadow that was visible through her shirt was in fact her bush or if she was wearing a dark coloured undergarment. He couldn't help but wonder if her lower mane was of the same colour as that on the top of her head, when the witch in question walked towards him and stood with her hands on her hips. "What?"

Not wanting her to think he was of loose character, Draco turned his head away and tried to shake off the image she had just presented. He felt a surge of anger at her for making him feel like- _like what? what was the word for this sudden tightness in his chest?_ He wondered.

 _Nothing. It was nothing. No tightness. He was just high._ His Slytherin instinct voiced. Shaking his head in self disgust, he answered her. Rudely. As his usual self. "That was me. Now get lost."

Hermione's eyes narrowed in revulsion, her sleep instantly waving her goodbye as her brain kicked in to make a riposte. "Are you out of your mind?"

Growling at her, Draco stumbled to withdraw his wand. His ears were suddenly filled with a light ringing sound, as he tried to convince himself that he had not just gawked at the snot.

Hermione watched his struggle with a pitied expression. "I am _not_ going anywhere," she announced, crossing her arms.

"I don't remember inviting you for a glass. So, by all means take your fat ass back to your room," he slandered, forgoing his attempt of retrieving his wand and grabbing the bottle instead.

Hermione could not believe the jerk. Had he completely lost his mind? Was he so drunk that he couldn't even speak civilly with her? Of course, they had been cursing and calling each other names since they first met. But he had never yet made a personal comment on her appearance.

And her ass was _not_ fat! Why it had been just last month when her colleague had praised her figure. Any fool could see that. Any fool with good taste, that is.

Anyway what did she care if he approved her or not. Her world did not revolve around him. And she'd rather cut her hand than ever admit that his words made her a bit self conscious.

Having had an experience of arguing with a drunken wizard in the past, Hermione was rather of the opinion that pure bloods and drinks didn't go too well.

She decided to ignore the way he had been looking at her and marched angrily towards the steps.

Draco watched her like a hawk as she mounted the steps. Her hips swaying on either side with her stride, enthralled him.

To his dismay, he noted that the hypnotizing bearing had stopped on reaching the landing.

And she had turned. To sass him. He was sure. "I don't think you should drink anymore."

He almost snorted out loud. _The nerve of her._ He saw her challenge him with her glare and so raising the bottle to his lips, he returned, "I don't think you should live here anymore."

A glint of hurt flashed in her eyes before she narrowed them and raising her insolent nose in the air, made her way to the room and slammed the door shut.

Draco waited for her to come back and yell at him. When she didn't, he relaxed his head on the headrest.

He was surprised with himself tonight. He had noticed Hermione Granger's curves right now. And not just noticed them. But he had- his face grimaced in remembrance- _no_ , _that couldn't be, could it?_ \- he had found her _appealing_.

Of course, any semi naked witch would seem appealing to any lust filled wizard. But she wasn't exactly immodest. He had just overreacted because he had never imagined her to dress like that. Nerds like her weren't allowed to look so fetching.

An instant thought crossed his mind, worrying him. _Had she spiked his drink?_ The Malfoy in him wondered.

He would have recognized the trace of contamination, wouldn't he? Odd. He didn't find it any different.

The fact that he had been staring at Granger's curves disconcerted Draco for more reasons than necessary, especially after his round with Vi.

He had been exceptionally tired, well blown and thoroughly drunk. But that had not stopped his hazy vision from gawking at her. He didn't know why he felt a stir inside him and as he rubbed himself raw, he noticed that his certain body part was clearly excited at the memory.

He needed a wank. Now.

Not wanting her to disturb him again tonight, Draco staggered to his bedroom.

After he had finished himself, he gladly welcomed sleep but not before deciding to meet Vi again.

* * *

The next day at breakfast, Ellie saw both her Master and Master's friend thoroughly ignoring each other as they helped themselves to their morning meal.

For several days, Ellie had seen them bicker about school or some weasel before they would floo together to the Ministry.

She still remembered how angry her Master had been when they had apparated back from Miss' home with her stuff. But Miss was no less. She had yelled back, if not louder, and had called Master names which Ellie was sure were definitely a lie.

If she was honest, she thought Miss was a nice witch for Miss had taken out time to speak to her on several occasions, before Master had asked her to not probe into his private familial matters. And since then Miss had refrained from talking much to her. Ellie didn't think Miss was being nosy. But she'd rather kick her own behind than admit it.

Serving some poached eggs on her Master's plate, Ellie waited for the storm to rise between them.

Draco chanced a glance at the other end as he finished his eggs and saw Hermione disappeared behind the paper again, which suited him just fine.

He had no wish to start his day by looking at her face. So far, not a single day had bode well with him since she had disrupted his life.

He remembered his last conversation with her and felt a tiny bit ashamed. He had noticed the way she had blinked at his insult before she could mask her expressions. He didn't understand why she had been affected by his words.

As per the latest count, she had even argued with Kingsley for the fourth time yesterday, to not make her live with him. Why she had to feel offended when he said the same thing, he couldn't understand. And nor did he want to.

Rubbing his forehead, Draco motioned for Ellie to get him some more hangover potion, as his head thudded heavily, reminding him of his poor choice of alcohol.

Ellie handed over the potion and Draco gulped it down in one shot making his eyes scrunch at the bitter taste of the potion.

His pounding headache was already making him feel like taking the day off, but he knew it was a futile attempt as he had to babysit his breakfast companion.

After normalizing his taste buds with some water, Draco gulped down a morsel of his black pudding when he heard Hermione snort from behind the paper.

He ignored her and focused on the pudding as he cut himself a large piece and heard her scoff again before turning the page.

Closing his eyes, he struggled to maintain his cool instead and finished his coffee in silence.

He picked up a freshly baked bread and having generously buttered it, he opened his mouth to nibble on it when he heard her tsk at some unfortunate article.

" _What_ -" Draco broke in, laying his uneaten bread on the plate, "-is your problem?"

"Present company. Current economy. Politics. To name a few," Hermione recited from behind her paper.

He looked at her in consternation. She was impossible. Even having a simple breakfast with her was difficult.

He shook his head in dismay and picked up his bread to munch on it.

They almost finished their breakfast without another squabble when Hermione muttered a low _tchah_ and folded the Prophet to eat her eggs.

"What does a man have to do in here to eat his breakfast in peace?" he yelled, shaking his head at the elf who tried serving some more eggs on his plate.

Pointing her knife towards him, Hermione said, "Excuse me? I was not disturbing you. I was simply reading the paper."

"Then stop giving your opinions about it. All this snorting and tsking is annoying me," he expressed, dropping the last piece of toast on his plate.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I was not giving any opinions."

"Now that's news to me!" Draco sneered as he got up from the table, his half eaten toast lying forgotten on his plate, "Hermione Granger does not have opinions," and strode furiously to the salon, his headache worsening despite the hangover potion.

* * *

 _Just a couple more hours,_ Draco thought as he checked his watch again.

 _A few more hours and Theo would be here._

He was compiling a list of Hermione's past cases when his office door suddenly burst open.

"I see, still no manners, Macmillan," Draco taunted, as the stout wizard stormed inside his chamber. He hastily closed his report file and regarded his coworker.

Ernie's face turned a light shade of pink before he kicked the door shut behind him. "Sorry 'bout that," he smoothened, confidently.

Noticing the way Draco had hastily shut his file, Ernie looked at him in suspicion. "Looks like you were busy."

"More like being disturbed," Draco replied, casually stretching his triceps to distract the wizard. "You know, people usually knock before entering. But I'm sure it's too much of a rule for you to follow," he added.

"Hey cut it out, Malfoy! I apologised, alright?" Ernie maintained.

Shrugging at the wizard, Draco waited for him to continue.

"Right, so, umm… where was I?" Ernie asked, seating himself in front of his colleague.

"At the door. Not _knock_ -ing," Draco intoned, over steepled fingers.

Ernie gave him a scathing look as he retrieved a paper from his pocket and announced. As though it was Christmas. "There's a breakthrough in Holyhead Harpies case! Potter needs backup."

"How delightful!" Draco drawled.

Ernie sneered at the pale wizard before belittling him. "Scared?"

"After witnessing your dance with Patil at the Ministry ball last year, I don't think I'll be scared of anything now. No," Draco leered and shook his head.

Ernie visibly flushed and clearing his throat, he changed the topic. "Well, I just thought you should know. After all you haven't had a case with muggle relations till now."

"We'll be leaving in sometime. You game?" he asked, as he got up to leave.

A line appeared between his brows as Draco decided on his answer. It had been just last week when he had asked Kingsley to let him exchange his case with Potter. But the old wizard had been adamant. He didn't want him working on any other case except for Granger's.

Even if he did decide to help Potter, he couldn't. Atleast not directly.

Sighing to himself, Draco answered, "I'll…let you know," and waited for the wizard to close the door shut behind him.

The thought of working on some real case rather than losing his mind over Granger enticed him.

Running his hand through his hair, he accioed two parchments towards his desk. He picked up his quill and first scribbled a response to his childhood friend.

 _Potter kicked in again. Some other time._

 _-Draco_

Sealing his letter, he pocketed it and started dashing out his next response.

 _Granger,_

 _Got some urgent work. Stay put until I'm back._

 _-DM_

Casting the inter memoing charm on the paper, he saw it zoom through the window.

He decided it was better to inform her and leave for a couple of hours than worry about her safety.

For the last couple of days, he had dumbly shadowed her to all of her meetings whenever and wherever she had taken him. He didn't see any harm if for once he asked her to stay back.

This was the least she could do for him.

And besides, what Kingsley didn't know, wouldn't harm him. He had asked him to keep a watch on her and he was doing that. Almost like for twenty-four hours.

He didn't want to cancel his real Auror duties just to chaperone her.

And as much as he disliked working with Potter, the prospect of some substantial action thrilled him.

If it was a choice between him and Granger, he would choose Potter without blinking an eyelid. Atleast he didn't have to safeguard his own back with him. He couldn't say the same about her.

He was about to get up and locate Macmillan when a blue memo flew inside his cabin.

Grabbing it, he quickly opened the folded paper.

 _Malfoy,_

 _I don't work according to your schedules. I'm meeting a client in four hours at The Leaky Cauldron. With or without you._

 _-HJG_

 _Ungrateful bitch_ , Draco swore. Balling the paper in his fist, he basketed it in the trashcan and marched out of his cabin.

Someone might think that she was doing him a favour by keeping him informed of her meetings.

 _With or without you,_ her words taunted him.

If she thought he'd cancel his work to babysit her, then she was in for some rude surprise. He was solely tempted to send her a _FUCK OFF_ howler in response, but changed his mind knowing it would only add to his problems.

As per the letter, her meeting was not for another four hours. And as Ernie had pointed out, they had to leave now for Holyhead Harpies.

He reckoned Potter must have already planned some strategy and so his role would be just to help execute it.

Plus, if Kingsley learnt later of his involvement, he wouldn't sulk like a witch if he realized that Granger had been safe the entire time.

Rubbing his hands together at his own cleverness, he ordered his team to get ready for the mission and made his way to the Owlery.

As he descended the stairs of the Owlery after dispatching a message to his friend, he heard some female voice calling him and raised his chin to find a beaming Melanie running at him instead.

She collided with him and he instinctively held her at the waist, making them both stop from stumbling down the steps.

"Oww…sorry," the witch huffed, as she steadied herself by placing her hands on his arms.

Draco was thoroughly annoyed with her clumsiness. He wasn't dying. Why the rush?

Only the knowledge that she was his eyes and ears in Hermione's office made him not to reprimand the witch.

"Never mind, pretty one," he lisped, smoothening his hair. "I'm actually in a hurry, so…?"

"Oh…" the witch exclaimed, embarrassed at his quick dismissal. "I didn't realize," she added, looking flustered. "I-I just finished my work and I thought we could meet for lunch," the witch explained, sounding hopefully.

"Aah! Such a tempting offer, Miss," Draco responded, pulling her aside in an empty corridor. "But I've rather got some urgent work I can't ignore. Maybe some other time?" he asked, giving her a fake pleading look.

Grinning, she put her hands behind his neck and whispered, "Of course, sir."

Draco roughly pulled her towards him and ran down a knuckle on her cheek.

 _Maybe he need not have to meet Vi tonight_ , he contemplated.

He had never mixed his work with pleasure before. But Melanie seemed too eager to be bedded by him. _Definitely worth considering._

He heard Ernie yelling orders to their juniors and letting out a sigh instead, he dropped his hands.

"I'll hold you on to that," he said, kissing her hand. "But I've really got to go now."

The young witch looked genuinely let down as her forehead puckered in disappointment. "Yes, alright. I'll see you around?"

"You can count on it."

He winked at her and before she could even form a smile on her face, he left her stranded, but hopeful, in the empty corridor.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the Auror team headed by Ernie and Draco made a spectacular sight as they walked towards the Ministry's lobby.

It was a sight to behold as the team together as one bolted towards the Ministry's fireplace and huddled collectively as they waited for their colleague's signal.

"Good luck!" Melanie shouted, waving at him from the hallway.

A bit embarrassed to be addressed in front of his team, Draco simply nodded in acknowledgement and gnashed his teeth at the junior who had the audacity to look amused in front of him.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Melanie adjusting her purse as she walked towards the opposite floo point, merrily chatting with some witch.

Despite himself, he couldn't help but wonder what the witch was up to.

He quietly retreated from his team and tapped her shoulder. "Where are you going?"

Melanie grinned at her companion giving her a _what-did-I-tell-you_ look before turning to face Draco.

"Off to lunch," she replied, jerking her head towards the bespectacled witch. "Others have already gone ahead. We'll just be catching up with them. Oh! This is Sheila, by the way. Sheila Brooks. She works at the Department of Magical Accidents And Cata-"

"Pleasure," Draco replied dryly, ignoring the said witch. "What about your boss?"

"What about her?"

"Does she know that you're leaving?"

 _Was it safe for him to leave when Granger was not surrounded by her colleagues?_

Giving him a bemused smile, Melanie snorted, "Obviously! What kind of a secretary do you think I am?"

She folded her arms in front of her chest and lifted her chin as she regarded him.

"Of course," Draco added and gave her a distracted smile.

He felt a tinge of uneasiness grip him. Why hadn't Granger joined these imbeciles?

"Oi, Malfoy! If you're done flirting for the day then get back here!" Ernie yelled at him.

Melanie giggled at his expense and pushed him towards his team. "I'll see you later. Now go."

Massaging his temples, Draco instructed her to return back on time. "I don't want to worry about you when I'm working," he lied, plastering a smile on his face.

He turned away from her to signal his team to start decamping.

She twittered happily at his instruction and sprinkled some floo powder on her palm. "Maybe I will be late," she confessed, batting her eyelashes. "It's not as if she will find out when I return."

Her words, her inconsequential words stopped him in his tracks. _What did she say?_

He back tracked to find Melanie ready to throw the floo powder into the fire, before she slow winked at him.

"Wait!" he shouted, pulling her away from the fire place.

"What do you mean?"

"By?"

"Cut it out, Melanie!" he yelled and immediately rubbed her arms in apology.

"Why won't she find out when you return?" he asked quietly, listening attentively to her reasoning.

"Why are you so interested to know?" the witch doubted, narrowing her eyes in suspicion.

"Well, you know, right, that she's helping me with some of my property disputes?"

Melanie nodded in reply.

"The bitch just asked me to drop by her office later today to discuss some things," he misled her.

Melanie relaxed at his explanation and shouted _"Just a second"_ to her friend who looked thoroughly annoyed with the pair of them.

"I really have to go," Melanie said and withdrew herself from his grip. "I don't think she'll be able to make it for your meeting today," she speculated, grabbing some more floo powder.

"Hmm, I thought so too," Draco replied absentmindedly, as he remembered her meeting at The Leaky Cauldron and saw Melanie climbing into the fire.

She threw the powder into the flames and blew him a kiss before adding,

"Cause she already left half an hour back."


	15. Where There's Smoke

**Edited by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **Where There's Smoke**

"She _whaaat?"_ he bellowed. And realized that he was speaking to no one in particular as Granger's secretary had already vanished into thin air.

He stood frozen for a moment, his mouth gaping open, before someone tapped him on the shoulder.

"Sir, are you gonna use the fire?"

 _Use? Huh?_

It took him a couple of seconds to process the spoken words as he blinked stupidly once—twice—his face steadily contorting in rage, finally grasping the treachery.

 _The bitch had tricked him._

Recognizing that the man was still waiting for an answer, he turned around and replied "No" rather bluntly and moved out of the now-formed queue to drift back towards his team, his steps automatically slowing down.

He noticed Ernie giving a few pointers to the over-excited interning Aurors and realized that he had lost the urge to snarl, to ask the idiots to calm down for a second.

Varying thoughts pulled him from every direction and he was finding it difficult to react. _Where would she fucking go? Or more likely, how did she do it? Who was her accomplice?_

His brows snapped together as he continued to ponder what had happened. _The question, at this moment,_ Draco reminded himself, _was not how she had managed to disappear, but where she had disappeared to._

Biting back a retort, for Ernie had gestured him to pay attention by pointing at his ears, Draco realized that there would be no case for him to work on. Granger had seen to that. _Hell._ She had made _sure_ of that.

It was clear as elfin crystal that he had to find her _or_ her dead body—whichever he discovered first—before Kingsley caught hold of him. And wasn't that a challenge in itself? To find her without any leads?

And Kingsley thought she wouldn't be that difficult to handle… what had he called her the other day? _Yes…a delightful witch trying to bring the best in everyone_ …

 _Bollocks!_

Pushing aside a rookie who made Colin Creevey look sophisticated, he stood in front of the over-charged team as it registered in his mind how screwed up his life had become since Hermione's arrival.

"Malfoy!" Ernie cried frantically, pocketing his badge before Draco could curse Granger to Hades again. "We've got our signal. You wanna take this lot first?" he added, smacking the heads of three recruits.

 _Now?_ Fidgeting with his wand, Draco considered his choices. Why should he care where she went? If she was determined to get herself killed or hide whatever shit she was hiding, then why should he worry about her?

He had enough memories to prove that he was doing his job. With dedication, he might add. This was just by fluke that he had acquired this particular information.

And he could very damn well hide it from Kingsley if he wanted to, he reluctantly agreed.

Right now he had no fucking idea where she was. Couldn't take a wild guess even if he wished to. He wasn't a seer. Didn't even know one. He wasn't even related to that old cheater Trelawney.

He shuddered just thinking of that disaster.

If Kingsley wanted to know where she went, he should have hired a fortune teller. Not him.

Kingsley had no right to blame him if something happened to her. If anything, Kingsley should condemn himself for giving her free rein all these years.

But screw all that.

Where the fuck had she gone? And why the fuck was he bothered by her escape?

Of course, he was angry that she had evaded him. Like, evaded _him._ Made a fool of _him._

For that, he was going to kill her with his own bare hands. Slowly and excruciatingly. With absolute pleasure.

But that was, as they say, for dessert.

At this moment, he wasn't just furious. He felt—scared. Cheated. Betrayed even. And why the hell was his heart pounding so fiercely in his rib cage? _Calm down, you moron!_

He peeked at his team from behind his blond locks and gathered that they were all looking at him with expectation. With eagerness. Which was rare for him. For it was Potter they adored.

And now, _now,_ when he had the opportunity to teach them something he liked—was actually proud of—he had to disappoint them. Desert them. Because of one Hermione Granger.

"Argh," he grunted, pulling his hair in annoyance. And cursed.

 _That fucking bitch had sworn to ruin his life._

"No," he spat, in reply to Ernie, having decided on the course of action. He wheeled around to enter the vacant lift and became the subject of some new gossip and stares in the Auror department.

He was going to tear apart her cabin brick by brick if he had to, but find out where she went. Just the fact that she had mocked him, embarrassed him in this way, irked the hell out of him. _She better be dead when I see her,_ he muttered to himself and pressed the up button rather vehemently.

 _Entering her office without permission can bite my arse. It was her fault. Simply hers._

He got out of the elevator and ran towards her department to find it empty except for a few overworked senior wizards, who considered it too bothersome to enjoy a meal with chirpy, boisterous youngsters.

Reaching her office, he pretended to knock on the door, purposely, and quite politely, if he said so himself, for he felt like slamming the door down, but resisted, for there were witnesses. He tried to gain access using a few nonverbal spells, but was unsuccessful.

"They're out. Come back later," a throaty yawn came from behind his right ear.

He casually spun towards the sound and noticed an old wizard reclining on a chair with his feet dangling on the desk, studying him from behind his thick-rimmed glasses.

"Right," Draco replied. "Can you get me in?"

"You have an appointment?"

"Yes."

"Then you wait," the grey-haired wizard yawned for a second time as he scratched his back with a long-feathered quill. "Granger is never late for her appointments," he informed Draco and mumbled something which curiously sounded like ''the prude." Instantly, Draco was aware that he had found himself an ally.

"Bitch," Draco muttered, softly, yet firmly, as he kicked her door in retaliation and walked towards the wizard's desk.

Pulling up a chair without the elderly man's permission, he sat on the opposite side and announced, "She scheduled this meeting to tell me my papers were incomplete!"

Giving the young stranger a once-over, the mature wizard's eyes flashed with recognition as he noted Draco's blond hair and Auror badge pinned to his chest.

Without a word, the old man sat still and tightened his lips as he observed Draco withdrawing some parchment from his jacket to place it on the desk.

"You'd think since I'm paying her so much, she'd do things easily," the Auror voiced, throwing a disgusted glance at her door. "God, this place is going to rags!" he whined, crinkling his nose and faking out a rather pathetic, yet convincing sigh.

"Why hire her then?" the man asked, reluctantly bringing his feet down, as though he would rather converse with Draco in this position, but knowing better than to dangle his feet in front of a Malfoy.

"Because she's a friend of my colleague! You know, Potter? Of course, you know! Who doesn't?" Draco added, mock hitting his forehead for his own stupidity. "I wish I could take back my papers and hire someone else…" Draco sighed with longing.

The senior wizard's face remained impassive as he studied the wizard, judging his genuineness "I'm sure she's competent to resol-"

"Naturally! She is all that shit, Mister…?"Draco interrupted, tilting his head towards the engraved nameplate lying on the desk. "Mr. Clogg! But you see, that's not why I hired her. I want things like this," he explained, snapping his fingers. He added, "And Granger thinks differently," with loathing written all over his face, which was, he discovered, not a difficult emotion to express.

"I mean, you'd think it's not a big deal to bribe a reckoner to speed up the process, right?"

"Right?" he asked again, forcefully when the wizard hesitated in his reply, but waited for his nod to confirm that he was headed in the correct direction and also to make the employee realize that the Malfoys still didn't mind paying an extra bag of gold to speed things up.

"But no, she doesn't believe in that!" Draco complained, leaning back on the chair once the old codger had slightly flexed his head forward, but not before checking on either side of him to see if he was being watched.

"Merlin! I hate that I hired her," he groaned and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose and waiting with bated breath.

After what felt like five whole minutes, where Draco was sure Mr. Edgar Clogg was peeking at his drawn papers, the senior wizard said in a hushed tone, "Maybe I can help you with that, if you want."

* * *

Ten minutes later, a determined Draco Malfoy found himself inside Hermione Granger's cabin as Mr. Clogg kept a watch for him while he snooped around.

It took far more persuasion from his side to assure the wizard that he genuinely wanted to glance at some of his documents and nothing else.

The younger Malfoy had to use all the conniving and scheming methods built in him to dupe the ancient wizard that he'd hire him for his 'several other property disputes.' Only after scheduling a meeting with him for next Thursday had the wizard agreed to let him in.

Once Granger's colleague saw the copy of his incomplete yet valuable property papers, he had been less suspicious.

Not at all feeling ashamed for deceiving another man, he entered Granger's office and peered over her several neatly stacked case files not before locking the door shut behind him.

Opening her drawers next, he found a small pile of brand new quills, several parchments and notebooks. He scanned them quickly and when he found them lacking, opened the other set of drawers.

Pushing aside some of her personal stack of Peach Rings— _P_ _each Rings? Seriously? What was she, twelve?_ —he lingered over a diary as he delicately checked it for any hint of hexes.

He carefully opened it to find it useless, for it was just a calendar where she'd indicated the birthdays of all of her friends.

He quickly skipped a few months and checked today's date to see whether she had gone off to celebrate with some exotic wizard, but found it empty.

Tsking at his misfortune, he idly flipped a few pages and could have sworn that there were more Weasleys in it than he knew existed.

He was about to slam the useless diary down when the page he had nonchalantly turned caught his attention. Skimming back, Draco read the name scrawled on it and almost missed a beat.

 _DM_

 _DM?_ That could mean anything. That could mean anyone. It didn't necessarily mean him, he gulped down his doubt with a frown.

He was not the only one with these initials. Why, there were so many others. Someone like—like— _like who?_ He mulled it over, absently scratching his chin.

He glanced again at the top right corner and his expression hardened as he confirmed the date.

It was his birthdate. The 5th of June.

And _DM,_ as far as he knew, indicated his initials.

Which meant— _fuck!_

It meant him!

 _What shit was she playing at?_

His forehead puckered together as he considered this new development. He wasn't aware of her birthday. So why should she be aware of his?

They didn't run in the same social circle. In fact, he was proud to say that he knew as little of her as possible. Except, maybe for her blood status. Which— _he snorted, and shaking his head in disdain, regarded_ —was like public information.

So why the fuck were his initials with his birthdate correctly mentioned in her diary?

 _Was she stalking him?_

He seriously reflected that notion, narrowing his eyes in consideration.

And then, why should she know anything about him? He was nobody to her. He was not important to her…had never been. And never would be.

Feeling annoyed, he grabbed her not-so-innocent diary to twist it, tear the troublesome thing and throw it outside the window, but stalled. For it wasn't his. It was hers.

And wasn't that a silly thought in itself? That he was getting annoyed and suspicious of a diary?

If she knew he was snooping around—if she got even a whiff of the number of spies he had stationed around her—he'd find it difficult to gain entrance again, if ever the need arose.

And surely, the need would arise. For this was Granger he was dealing with.

 _Gangrenous Granger._

And then, so what if she remembered his birthday? _Big deal,_ the Slytherin in him voiced.

But it was a big deal, he argued with himself, as he frowningly shut the diary and tossed it back in the drawer.

For it was his birthday and it was Granger's diary.

And the point wasn't that she had remembered his birthdate. The point was that she was actually _aware_ of his birthdate. If that wasn't ridiculous enough, he didn't know what was.

Distracted and slightly miffed by what he had found out, he started looking for her planner, but as luck had it, found it nowhere.

Dejected, he considered informing Kingsley about her disappearance and set about to exit her cabin when his foot accidentally hit the litter basket. Similar to the brain of its owner, the overflowing contents spilled on the floor.

Gritting his teeth, Draco pointed his wand to refill the bin with her crap and turned to grab the door handle, but stopped suddenly as a very faint trace of burnt parchment filled his nostrils.

He wheeled around and, reaching back to the desk, squatted on his knees and emptied the bin again.

Using his wand, he separated the empty ink bottles, crumpled parchment and discarded quills to finally find the half-burnt piece of note which had caught the attention of his olfactory sense.

He inhaled deeply and delicately turned the damaged paper over by flicking his wand. He noticed that the paper was hastily burnt, as its edges were now simply thin threads of ash, dangerously hanging free.

Draco flipped the folded note open and concluded that it was a note from her daily appointment diary.

Having hit the jackpot, he couldn't suppress the arrogant smile from filling his face as he further turned it open, careful enough that the remnants of the dying parchment didn't collapse in front of him.

He found that the 'venue' of the meeting had been shot with a thick blot of ink before it was unsatisfactorily burnt.

 _Very smart, Granger. Very smart indeed._

Using some impressive quick cleaning skills, Draco tried to decipher the words Hermione so badly wanted to hide. His eyebrows knitted together and his forehead shone with sweat as he pointed his wand at the parchment to carefully open the note completely.

She had used some type of permanent ink that was challenging for Draco to erase. Even his cleaning spells were inadequate to clear the ink. He turned around the page to see if he could unravel the outline of her scribbled words from its back page, but the dark blue ink proved to be extremely trying.

He pulled the parchment closer to his face to observe it more carefully when he deciphered a faint outline of ' _go_ ' on it.

He wasn't certain. Her handwriting was pathetic.

He flipped around the parchment when he couldn't decode any more alphabets to check if the blotted ink made more sense now.

He identified a light trace of an ' _S_ ' in her scribbled note and almost destroyed the paper in his haste as he put two and two together.

Quickly putting the thrash back and checking that her office was exactly as it was supposed to be, he exited the room and hurriedly expressed his gratitude to the old wizard on his way out.

He left him mid-sentence as he checked his watch and realized that if he wanted to catch her in action, he was far behind schedule. For she had already left.

He descended two steps at a time and, reaching the ground level, took a large pinch of Floo powder from the corner and cutting two witches directly from the line, spoke in a clear, triumphant voice:

"St Mungo's Hospital!"

Five seconds later, Draco Malfoy emerged into the crowded reception area of the only wizarding hospital in London.

Draco knew he was at the correct destination, having had the experience of decoding words in his past assignments and was positive that the garbled address indicated this particular place.

Hastily squeezing himself in a corner as a wizard went past him vomiting tar, he scanned his surroundings to see if he could locate her.

Draco didn't know if he would be lucky enough to catch her here, or, if it was a clever trick to mislead him. He didn't think it wasn't in her capabilities to be sneaky. She was feisty, determined and cunning. He had to give her that. But for now, this was his only lead.

Inching towards a corner, he started removing his badge and placed it inside his jacket. He quietly changed the colour of his robes, turned his hair into a ghastly shade of black along with altering some of his prominent Malfoy features, to blend in with the queue to reach the help desk.

"Yes?" the witch asked in a bored voice once it was Draco's turn.

"I'm here to see Hermione Granger. She has an app-"

"And you are?" the receptionist demanded, pulling a fat patient register and waving her wand over it.

Draco's cheeks turned pink lightly as he answered her. "Ernie Macmillan. I'm here on offi-"

"Are you her wizard?" the witch cut him short again, thoroughly frustrating Draco, as she scanned the page for him.

 _Like hell._

"No."

"You related to her?" she asked, marking the name and pulling out a dull book from an overhead shelf and pushing it in his direction.

He sniffed dismally.

"No." And reached for the quill the witch had offered him to sign.

"I'm sorry. Private information is not given outside family," she recited, withdrawing the quill and the book to send it flying back in its place.

"Next!"

"Hold on a sec," Draco growled, as he glared at the wizard behind him, who was trying to push past him in his haste to reach the help desk.

"I'm here on an official call," he snarled, turning back to the receptionist to show her his badge.

"In that case…" the fiery woman said, folding her hands in front of her chest and challenging him with her eyes. "…can I see your authorized letter, _sir?"_

 _Fucking hell._ Of course, he'd have to face a sincere employee now. Where it was a matter of official secrecy, they had people like Granger's secretary, Melanie, or Mr. Clogg, who were as easy as pie to break. And here, in St. Mungo's, they had these tough, thug-like employees.

No wonder their world was collapsing.

It registered in his mind that he ought to have carried a written consent from Kingsley. Deciding to request one the very next time he met his superior, he gave a flatteringly sheepish smile to dazzle the witch and rubbed the back of his head.

"Yes…umm...you see, it's... err…" Draco faltered, side stepping from the desk in the pretext of finding the letter from his front pocket, as his mind quickly set to work.

"Got it! Here!" he said, recalling the exchange of mail from this morning and retrieved Theodore's note from his pocket and shoved it in her face.

"Ouch! Watch it, Mister!" the employee yelped, grabbing the paper from smacking in her face, before a sudden calmness hit her.

Sighing in relief, Draco wiped his brow, his heart beating furiously, glad that his wandless magic had not alerted the security. He watched the witch closely and saw that she was merrily staring at Theo's note.

As a child, he had never understood why his godfather would encourage him to learn about wandless magic and was honestly glad that he was able to gain few precious moments at times like this.

"Hurry up! Will you?" the wizard behind Draco yelled, holding his groin.

Looking behind him, Draco barred his teeth at the hurried wizard, giving him his signature look of contempt.

When he turned back to the confused witch again, he saw that she was holding Theo's note upside down and was humming a happy tune to herself.

"Right. So I suppose I have to sign here?" Draco said, pulling the book towards himself and, grabbing a nearest quill, faked Ernie's signature. _That's another wanker that needs to be kicked_.

He noted the Healer's name and cabin number and, snatching back his friend's note, headed towards Healer Allison Barnes' office without a backward glance.

Finding his way to the correct department took Draco another couple of minutes as he scanned his way past different departments and cabins.

The urgency of catching her in action and the need of seeing her shocked face made him inadvertently increase his speed.

He scanned the door numbers as he bolted past the doors— _507…508…509_ —and almost collided with a male staff member when he heard her slight laughter as she emerged from a door at the end of the corridor.

 _Fuck! She was coming this way._

Without a moment's pause, he grabbed the wrists of the wizard, who exclaimed, " _What the? Hey!"_

And shoved himself and the unknown man through the nearest door he found unlocked.

"Are you out of your mind?" the man asked, rubbing his wrists.

Draco ignored him to slightly open the door and heaved a sigh of relief as he gathered that his hasty act had not alerted anyone. Hurriedly planting his ear at the door, he heard Hermione talking to the Healer ( _her voice growing louder with every step as she walked closer_ ) and he muttered an urgent "ssh!" to the wizard behind him who was now mumbling to himself and arranging the potion bottles in his tray.

"...would be all?" Granger was saying.

Draco heard the worried tone of his archenemy, and, keeping one ear at the door, thrust his hand in the front pocket to retrieve his wand, pointing it at his captive.

He heard a gasp, then complete silence, and leaned back against the door to hear the healer's reply.

"…adequate rest and sleep. You need to take good care of yourself, Miss Granger. I understand work comes first, but try not to overstress yourself," the Healer explained.

 _Fuck! Hermione Granger was sick? Why didn't he realise that before?_

 _Did she finally accept that she is mentally ill?_ Draco mused, ignoring the muffled protests of the wizard, who in his shock seemed to have forgotten that he could use his own wand to release himself.

Draco heard their polite goodbyes and after being sure that Hermione had left the area, hauled the door open to interrogate the Mediwitch when his captive pulled him back by his collar.

"Uhh!" the half-grown wizard sputtered, pointing at his lips.

"Let go of me, you twit!" Draco snarled and smacked the hand away from his collar, only to have the punk grab his neck in return.

"Uhh… uhh!" he muttered again, blocking Draco's way out and kicking the door shut in his face.

"You'll pay for that!" the Auror growled and punched the employee straight on his nose.

The young man yelped and cowered on the floor, holding his bleeding nasal cavity.

"Idiot!" Draco hissed, rubbing the knuckles of his right hand.

He felt a twinge of remorse for having hit him so hard when he saw the man howling in pain. But what the hell? The idiot had distracted him when he was about to follow this Barnes woman.

Sighing in exasperation, he closed the distance between them, knelt on the floor and tried to right the man's nose, which appeared to have turned a bright shade of red, as best he could. He pulled out a handkerchief from his breast pocket to hand it over to the teary wizard and shook his head in disgust when he saw the man losing composure.

"Relax," Draco said, in what he considered was a soothing voice. "It was just a light blow. An accident. No! There's no need to be scared. I'm just going to release the spell, alright?" he calmly explained when the figure tried to scamper off.

Thinking about the time he had wasted, Draco pulled his wand and pointed it towards his captive's face and heard a low 'smack' as the captive unsealed his mouth.

"What was that for?" the young man croaked, wiping his mouth on the dress sleeve after Draco had lifted the curse.

"An accident," Draco replied, rising from the floor, as his leg started giving him a cramping ache, having hit the adjacent wall in his hurry. He shrugged off the pain.

Ignoring Draco, the man started grumbling to himself, rubbing the potion stains off from his pants (loud enough for Draco to hear him) about the audacity of some wizards who didn't even have the balls to apologize.

Feeling annoyed, Draco slowly walked closer to the man, pointed his wand straight between his eyes and said, "You were saying?"

Terror overtook the man's face and he wrapped his trembling hands around himself. "N-nothing, you bas— stop pointing your wand at me!" he squeaked, scurrying towards the other end.

Draco crinkled his nose in revulsion and leaned on the wall, waiting for the tosser to gather his wits.

Surveying him, Draco's immediate impression was that he looked extremely thin and young— probably sixteen or seventeen—to be working in a hospital. His tattered and shabby hospital robe certainly indicated that he was an employee here, but there was a displeasing malnourished tinge to him which made Draco wonder about when the young wizard last had a decent meal.

The dimwit, Draco noticed, was trying to crawl towards the door but made the mistake of seeing his reaction and hurried off to the corner instead.

His actions reminded Draco of Hermione's midnight adventure in his own chamber and he massaged his temples in irritation, cursing his fate.

If Hermione Granger was ill, it wouldn't be simple to attain her medical file unless he had an official note from his superior, Draco mused, walking around the room.

He understood that very well.

He knew that whoever this Allison Barnes was, she wouldn't readily give him the case details just because an Auror had demanded it.

All that patient's right to secrecy and other crap the healers maintained had given him headaches in the past as well. And he'd be foolish to even attempt— _no, hell, no_ — to even _think_ of hoodwinking a Mediwizard.

He didn't think he wanted a close-up of Azkaban in this life again, especially cause of Granger. _Thanks, but, no thanks._

Clenching his fists in frustration— _Merlin! Where might she have scampered off to now?—_ he rested his head on the wall and turned his neck from side to side to study the room he had so unceremoniously barged into.

He wanted to leave and follow the Healer immediately. But he didn't want the lad alerting the security. They might even seal the entire hospital! _Fuck! He'd screwed big time then._

He had to calm the runt, send him on his way and then go find the mediwitch. It'd have been a lot quicker if he simply stunned him and left, but he didn't want to leave behind any trace. Or raise an alarm.

And now, he noticed, the lad was pleading. _Pleading!_

Ignoring the boy, Draco realized that, luckily, he had entered a storeroom filled with racks of used linens, pillow covers and other bedding material. He sniffed lightly, catching that the room smelled dingy, and immediately covered his nose with his hand.

Mentally noting to himself that he ought to take a shower tonight, he hastily cast himself a temporary cleaning spell and glared at his companion when he attempted to rise again, as though all this was his fault.

"Who are you?" Draco asked with a furrowed brow.

The young man backed away even further, earning an eye roll in return from Draco, and stuttered, "Ji-Jimmy Philpott, sir."

"Hmph. And where do you live, Jimmy Philpott?" Draco inquired, rubbing the nape of his neck.

Jimmy simply stared at Draco without answering and then sent a panicked look towards his wand.

Looking away in impatience, Draco raised his hand to grab the wand peeking from his robe, when the man quickly replied. "I don't know anything, sir. I swear on my mama's life. I'm just an aide here," he confessed, pressing himself more firmly into the wall.

Tsking at his luck with such morons today, Draco closed his eyes and, running his hand through his blond (now black) hair, dismissed the worried glance the captive was giving him.

This was turning out to be an extremely tiring day.

Opening his eyes, he saw the wizard trembling in front of him and giving a death glare, he snapped. "Calm down, you jerk. I am not from the MLEP."

The puzzled boy gathered his eyebrows in confusion and blubbered, "B-but why did you pull me in here when you saw me? I promise it wasn't me who stole from the matron's room. You can ask Tiffa-"

"Jimmy!" Draco yelled, stomping his foot loudly on the ground. He snapped his fingers at the lad and signaled him to get up as well.

"I don't care what you do here. I don't give a damn if you steal from the supplies. I don't give a slug's ass if you steal from Gringotts. Got it?"

The worried boy considered Draco's declaration with caution, then seemed to notice that Draco was not dressed in those authoritative MLEP robes and let out a sigh of relief. Slightly mollified, he nodded and blew his nose loudly on his shirtsleeve, making Draco avert his eyes in repulsion.

"And what made you think I'm from the MLEP?" Draco asked the young man suddenly.

"Your action, sir," he replied, imitating his punching style. "That blow was rather hard, you know. Any why did you bring me in here? Who are you anyway?" Jimmy asked, touching his nose and wincing as the nociceptors started kicking in.

Pressing his lips together, Draco pulled out a pouch from his trousers, tipped a handful of Galleons to the now perplexed Jimmy and, rather than answering his question, said, "Take this."

The baffled Jimmy stood mutely with his arm extended, staring at the coins in his palm.

"Go fix your nose," Draco advised, tying a knot to his now considerably light pouch to place it back in his robes. "And as I said before, it was an accident. I lost my balance. I may not be from the MLEP, but I certainly know many from the department. Is that clear?"

Once the boy had greedily and absentmindedly nodded, for he was more interested in counting his new shiny coins, Draco paddled towards the door. Turning the door knob in, he turned around and said, "I suggest you leave this room too."

Jimmy quickly dropped the coins in his pocket, apparently worried that Draco might change his mind and take it all back from him. Sniffing loudly, he stood up and walked towards Draco.

"Thanks, sir," he crowed, reaching the door.

Realizing that he had forgotten his tray inside, he went back to retrieve his supplies.

Ignoring the acknowledgement, Draco tapped his feet in annoyance, turning in the door handle.

"Whom are you here to meet, sir?" Jimmy bravely asked the stranger, righting the fallen potion jars on the tray.

"Allison Barnes."

 _Fuck. He wasn't supposed to tell him that. Fool._

"Barnes? You mean Healer Barnes, sir?" Jimmy asked, puckering his eyebrows and unaware of Draco' slipup.

Balancing the tray, he carefully walked towards the exit and missed Draco's narrowed eyes, staring at him in suspicion.

"Yes."

"You mean Healer Allison Barnes?" he asked cocking his head and leaning against the door frame.

"Maybe," Draco lisped, closely observing him.

"Why?"

Draco raised his left eyebrow in mock astonishment and sneered, "What makes you think I'd tell you that, boy? It's way beneath you and none of your fucking business."

Jimmy backed away immediately as he realised that he might have overstepped his limit.

"Don't get me wrong, sir," Jimmy hurried with his explanation, trying to diffuse the tension. "I just wondered why a wizard like yourself would want to meet Healer Barnes. That's all," he shrugged, as if his question was hardly offensive.

"Again. What makes you think I'd tell _you_?" Draco thundered, clenching his jaw and folding his hand behind his back to restrain himself from hexing the aide.

Draco understood that the lad was an utter idiot. He certainly didn't know when to back out and recognized that he was inexperienced and unschooled in the manners of the world.

How he got an opportunity to work in St. Mungo's was beyond Draco.

But by now, he had derived that the lad not only was unfortunate in terms of finances, but also in terms of wisdom.

"Look," Draco said, turning away from the door, "I need to go. And if you don't wish to lie in your own puddle of blood, I suggest you get the fuck out of here."

As he growled at him, Draco noticed his own pale reflection in the glass window and heaved a sigh of relief as he remembered that he had altered his appearance. Jimmy won't be able to trace him later. _Thank Merlin for that._

"For your wife, sir?"

"What?"

"You wanna meet Healer Barnes for your wife?"

"And why will I go to her for my wife?"

"Cause she's a witch specialist. You know… healer for " _their_ " problems," Jimmy disclosed, moving closer to Draco.

"How do you know that?" Draco asked him in dubiety.

"I work for everyone on this floor. I was just taking back the potions Healer Barnes had asked me to get—you know that fancy witch Healer Barnes was talking to—the one with the big purse?"

"You gave her _what_?" Draco thundered urgently and then as his brain kicked in, added, "Where are the potions?"

"Healer Barnes made her drink them in front of her. These are all empty," he explained, lifting his tray to show Draco.

Covering the distance between them, Draco raised the bottles closer to his nose and inhaled each of the four potions one by one. None of the fragrances smelled familiar, he realised, concentrating hard, as he sniffed the last one.

"Do you happen to know what these are for?"

Jimmy chuckled and the empty bottles rattled on the tray as he explained, "Sir, had I known that, I would have worked as a Mediwizard myself. Not as a…" he hesitated, and looked down at his own robes, his cheeks turning pink in embarrassment.

"Yes, yes…" Draco quickly replied, sweet-talking the inexperienced wizard. "But this looks like such an important job, I don't think the Healers trust anyone else"—he looked straight at the tray and continued—"to get the-these supplies."

Jimmy grinned widely, showing all of his yellow teeth and both of his chin dimples. He not-so-modestly accepted the praise and gushed, "That's true. You know they even removed Joseph from this floor." And then scooting closer to Draco, he tattled, "He came drunk one day to the hospital and created a ruckus. But I don't do that, sir. My mama taught me well," He beamed with self-pride.

"Come here," Draco motioned, locking the door again and pulling him away from the exit.

"Let's keep this here for a minute," he said, taking the tray from him and placing it on a table. "Hmm…now then, what do you know about that fancy lady, Jimmy?" Draco cautiously asked, turning back towards him.

Jimmy shrugged his shoulders in reply. "Not much. I've just seen her once before this."

"Yes, but, why did she visit Healer Barnes last time?"

"I don't know that. But if you wait here, I can go ask Healer Barnes and let you know?" he exclaimed, thinking of some more coins he could earn from the stranger.

" _Like hell!_ I mean—never mind. I'll ask her myself," Draco quickly replied, his heart rate intensifying after hearing his stupid suggestion. He made a quick note to work on Jimmy's memory later—if he ever mentioned anything, things would become messy.

"Now then, about these potions," Draco purred, pointing behind him. "Any idea what these are for?"

Jimmy crinkled his forehead as he considered their use.

"Come on, boy! Spit it out. Why were they given?"

"Sir?"

"Yes, Jimmy?"

"Why do you want to know about them? Are you that lady's family?"

"Damn it, boy! Are you really that dumb? Yes, I'm her family. She came in here without informing me and I want to know why!" Draco barked, banging his hand on the wall near him.

"Oh, in that case! I can tell you. You see, most of the witches in here…" the lad began, not affected by Draco's angry outburst anymore as he was not a Ministry man.

"I don't want to know about most witches. And certainly not about every female coming to Healer Barnes. I want to know what that bitch was here for!" Draco snapped.

A sudden suspicious entered his mind.

"Are those two working on something?" _A new potion, perhaps?_

"Dunno, sir. Just that whenever that lady visits us, Healer Barnes asks Jimmy to get those potions," he proudly stated, pointing at the empty jars behind Draco. _Apparently,_ Draco realized, _the simpleton wasn't aware of who 'that lady' was._

"Where do you get these potions from?"

"From Healer Barnes' lab on the third floor. No one else gets to go there except me," he bragged.

"Can you tell me why she visits her, Jimmy? Is she seriously sick?"

"Serious? I don't think so, sir. But yes, Mrs. Craig on the fourth floor is."

"I meant the lady who left now, you idi—"

"No offence to your wife, sir, but Jimmy thinks most of the women coming here are exaggerating their symp…" _Wife. Wife? He called her his wife? 's was filled with fools._ "…One minute they're howling in pain and the next moment, they're sound asleep."

"Yes-yes, but why did-?"

"Sir…" Jimmy hinted, giving the irritated Auror a weird smile and making Draco want to punch him again. "Why would any married woman visit a witch specialist?"

Draco stared at him in reply. _How the fuck would he know?_

"Why would they?"

"Cause they're pregnant! Or they want to get pregnant. You know, full puffed up like a Quaffle and yelling and snarling abuses! _That_ pregnant!"

" _SHE'S WHAT_?" Draco gasped, looking at him as though he had gone mad.

"Are you telling me that-that witch, the brown-haired witch who left Healer Allison Barnes' chamber right now, is pregnant?" Draco bellowed, pointing his finger at the door.

"She could be!"

"What do you mean she "could be?" Either she is. Or she isn't," he retorted. _And she wasn't. She couldn't. Wouldn't._

"Healer Barnes gave the lady the same potions she gives to all the puffed up witches here. That's why—"

"Shut up, Jimmy!" Draco snapped, his temper rising so fast that he burst an empty bottle from the tray.

"How did you know this? And what proof do you have?" Draco asked him after repairing the bottle.

"Proof? I don't have any proof. I just know that whenever a witch visits our Healer Barnes, she asks me to get these potions. And I gave the same ones to your lady too."

"But that could be for anything! Headache, vomiting, Floo nausea. _Anyyyything."_

"Maybe. But often these witches turn up here full knocked up and everything."

"How far along is she?"

"That you should be knowing, sir. When was the last time you and ma-… _sorry_ ," he apologized, embarrassed, finally realizing that the man was not happy with the news he had shared. Maybe the witch had been cheating on her husband. _Well, with a temper like this, he couldn't blame her._

Draco stood there for the longest time, dumbly waiting for someone- _anyone_ to yell, "April fools!" in his ears, only it wasn't April. And he wasn't expecting anyone.

Shaking his head in denial, he realised his temple was dripping with sweat and pulled his handkerchief out.

He wiped his face and saw Jimmy giving him worried looks and detected a hint of suspicion as he carefully entered his mind.

He had to act fast.

"Look…" he said, pulling out his small bag of Galleons."…keep this. I need a sample of the potions given to her. That bitch is lying to me. And I need a proof to know that she's…" _he couldn't even say it._ "…for sure. You'll help me with this, won't you? It requires a lot of courage, which I'm sure you have."

Jimmy grinned at him and his chest puffed up in self-importance. He greedily put all his new coins in the pouch and walked back towards the tray.

"So will you pull this off? Help me prove my…" his mouth became sour, as he vomited the word, "…'wife' wrong. You'll help me. Right?"

"Yes, sir. I can even get you a copy of your wife's case papers as proof if you want," Jimmy replied.

"That'd be highly appreciated." Draco returned, giving him a curt nod and understand that he'd have to keep a watch on the he wasn't worried about that for now.

"If you do that, you'll receive another one of these. Probably bigger."

Draco delved into his mind again, assuring himself that the man held no treachery in his promise and paddled towards the door to grab the door knob and noted with reluctance that his hand shook as he bolted the door open.

"Remember. Not a word to anyone. I'll personally come here and contact you after three days. No need to know my name. But if you're unable to help me, well, let's just say, I can ask Tracey or whoever else is ready. Got it?"

"No-no! I'll do it."

Once Jimmy had left the room, Draco waited for few minutes to steady his heart and then grazing his hand through his hair, got out of the storeroom and started descending the stairs. He didn't feel like going after the Healer anymore.

This information— this—this _thing_ he had discovered, he didn't believe it. He _could not_ believe it. For Granger was, you know, _Granger_.

He entered the lobby and, using the Floo network, returned to the Ministry.

He had assumed that she had visited the healer for a nasty rash after hooking up with someone. He was looking forward to irritating her with that. But not this. Certainly not this.

Going to the restroom, he returned to his original form (both dress and face) and entered the lift to head towards his office.

He never could have dreamt that Hermione Granger would get knocked up… _She wasn't even married! She wasn't even dating anyone. Or was she? But then who…_

Tired, confused and hungry, he avoided his colleagues' stares and entered his cabin to bolt the door shut behind him and collapsed on his chair.

It had been an exhausting day. _He still could not believe that she was_ _—_ grabbing the nearest bottle, he gulped down the water and gasped for breath.

He threw the bottle away and sat with his head in both his hands.

 _Was that the reason why she had tried to commit suicide in the first place?_ he asked himself. _Fuck! Was she raped? And what did Cecile Zabini have to do with all this? Was Blaise involved? But he had never said anything…_

Although, he did remember Blaise licking his lips once when they had seen Granger and Ginny Weasley together in a club, but he had assumed his friend's attraction was towards Potter's wife.

Shaking, blood throbbed in his ears like an extra heart as he realized that his friend had been eyeing Granger the whole time.

And— and what about Potter and Weasley? Surely they wouldn't mind if Granger had shagged Zabini? Right?

Although a Slytherin, Blaise was never involved in the finer politics of the Dark Lord. His slate was clean and unblemished as opposed to his. Everyone knew it. Plus, he had a pretty good post in Gringotts.

So why hadn't she told them about him? Or was it because he was seeing it wrongly?

Baffled, he got up from the chair and started pacing his room.

There was no Blaise in the scene. It was them. Just them. Either of them. Potter or Weasley had knocked her up and she didn't want to ruin her friendship with the remaining fools. _Yes! That could be it. That made sense._

But then who… _Potter_? _Nah!_ Potter didn't have enough balls to have an extra-marital kiss with anyone but his wife. An affair was out of question. Plus, there was a rumor in their office that the Weaselette was a tiger in bed.

S _alazar's own fucking balls_! His life had come down to this now. To find out who Hermione Granger had slept with.

 _Fuck!_

 _But he wasn't the one to be fucked. It was she who was fucked! Royally!_ She was fucked pregnant and he could bet his Firebolt that she was knocked up by one of her best friends.

And if his hunch was right and Potter was out of the picture— _it meant just one thing:_ there was a Weasley spawn brewing under his very own roof at this moment!


	16. Stir Crazy

**Edited** **by : _Frogster_**

* * *

 **STIR CRAZY**

Draco glared at his senior in resentment. He didn't even bother to mask his feelings.

He was beyond caring what fucked up things Granger was doing; and wasn't even guilty for exposing her personal life.

The bitch had it coming.

After snapping at the secretary about the urgency of his meeting, Draco waited; or rather, held back his temper when he was subjected to kill time while the minister finished his floo call with the French delegate.

Shortly after he was allowed entrance, he briefed his senior withholding nothing; and held back with bated breath when he mentioned Granger's pregnancy.

The Minister didn't show any outward reaction, except, a slight raise of an eyebrow and continued to grill him.

Answering all his questions and giving adequate justification, Draco hoped he would finally be allowed to waste his life in some pure Scottish ale, once the Minister realized how unfit their living situation was.

Advancing towards the rose window, he turned back and saw their leader engrossed in his own world, and so, in turn, he slumped on the windowsill.

He wondered if the information he had provided could now alter Kingsley's decision. He was hopeful, perhaps even glad that Hermione Granger had gone and done the nasty, but he wasn't completely sanguine.

Especially when it came to his luck.

To be honest, he didn't particularly care about the harridan polluting the world with annoying little monkeys like her.

Well, he was a bit intrigued, wondered even who her significant mystery man was, but, he wasn't going to tell Kingsley that. He was just curious to know who the Witch of the Year regarded worthy enough to sleep with.

He had briefly pondered whether she had been assaulted and had seriously considered that as a possibility; but the way she had reacted during his first interrogation hadn't left any room for doubt.

She was not raped.

And he was more than glad for it.

Perhaps, if his personal life hadn't been such a disaster, he'd have enjoyed being privy to such information. Might have even taken efforts to taunt her.

But just a couple of days living with her and he had lost all Grangerly interests he'd have pursued otherwise.

Such a joy killer.

Off handedly, he reckoned, if anyone asked his opinion, _which no sane person would_ , he realized that, but if they did, his odds would be on Weasley.

Actually, any Weasley male, for that matter.

They seemed to have a great deal of prowess in bed, shaming even the entire team of Pride of Portree with their ease in producing prodigies. They could actually create their own Quidditch team: The Weasley Woos; and still have some spare Weasleys left to cheer. That clan certainly had the vigor to double up faster than a blast-ended skrewt exploded, he surmised.

His mind danced with images of tiny, nappy-clad, red head monsters, jumping up and down in glee, making him shudder in disgust.

Groaning softly at the thought that there might soon be a nasty little bugger in his very house, he gulped heavily and shoved his already ruffled hair back from his face.

Personally, Draco reckoned, he'd put his money on that uptight Percy Weasley.

Hadn't he seen Granger with him on the cover page of last month's ministry journal? Followed by some pathetic article about making small changes and creating big impact.

He recalled, how the sight of them smiling and waving at the camera had created such an enormous impact on him to throw up in the back of his throat, that he had to tear the rag away.

And how Granger could even eye Percy Weasley naked was beyond his comprehension.

For he was an absolute dickhead. And a dork.

But then, so was Granger.

 _Hmm…_ he mused, rocking back and forth on the sill.

 _Maybe that turned her on_ …talking about case trials and filthy creatures.

Just imagining them— ( _his own, personal interaction with the idiot had been a month back, where he had come extremely close to kill either himself or the twit for boring everyone for over two hours_ )— just imagining them together: an extremely naked Weasley, lecturing on the importance of International Magical Cooperation, while he stupidly stroked himself, induced the vomit reflex in him.

He pictured Granger, in that useless night-shirt of hers (which did absolutely nothing to calm his temper), seated passionately on her knees, with that halo of her candid hair, roaring with the need to be tamed. Her lust-filled hazel eyes were concentrated and waiting eagerly for the reward to grace her lips.

She was quiet this time, Draco believed, passionately watching her partner's ministrations rather than listen him rave, somewhere in that shithole that should have been buried than _Burrow_ ed.

 _Fuck._

He cursed himself in mortification.

He did not just speculate an entire scenario of Weasley and Granger together.

He was not going to imagine her naked.

He was not going to picture her with Weasley. Not with anyone.

He had to get her out.

He needed to get her out.

Embarrassed at his over-the-top imagination, he spared a glance at the portraits to see if anyone was observing him and quickly ducked his face.

Relieved to not be subjected to their dirty humour, he shook his head from thinking such prurient thoughts and fiddled with the curtain, refusing to let even a single capillary to fill his cheeks.

Who Granger fucks was not his problem, he brought back to mind.

She could blow all Weasleys for all he cared.

And this was just a healthy, casual curiosity, he convinced himself again.

Probably like, who scored an O in Ancient Runes, or, who won a medal for Magical Merit this year. Perhaps, even, who needed a chastity belt for Christmas coming winter.

Although, there were no guesses even there.

Maybe, someone ought to gift her that, he mulled. Anonymously.

 _Was she wild? Did she like to be on top? What did she tast-_

Luckily, this time, his wild thoughts were put to an end and he was brought back to present when Kingsley cleared his throat and began pouring himself some brandy.

Politely declining the offer, he straightened his back and regarded him attentively.

"So. In review—" the said leader began, after sipping his mead.

"—you left a mission with Potter since Granger was not in her office—"

"She sneaked out!" he flung his answer in defense and walked towards the desk to lower himself on a chair.

"—gained access to her cabin,"

"There was no other option!"

"—tricked a Mungo's employee—"

"You asked me to follow her!"

"—threatened someone with force—"

"That was self-defense!"

"—and tell me she is _pregnant—_ "

"I thought this is crucial inf-"

"—and express your doubts on Weasley?"

"Well, they were together," Draco intoned, shrugging his shoulders. He had reminded Kingsley of Granger's past- her predictible involvement with his nemesis, Ron Weasley.

And, anyway, it didn't matter.

They were all the same. Boring Weasley or the side-kick Weasley.

Folding his pale hands in front of his chest, Draco tapped his left elbow in annoyance and waited for Kingsley's dictum.

"Who else knows about this?" Kingsley asked.

Chuckling quietly, Draco shook his head.

Typical Kingsley. Always worried about bad publicity.

"No one."

"Good."

"Yet." He couldn't resist to add a mocking bow.

"It will remain that way."

"If you say so."

"Malfoy…" Kingsley warned.

Eyeing his informer, he calmly said, "…don't play games with me. If you mention this, or, if-if I hear anyone talking about this, I'll assign your every new case with Potter. I'm sure you would love that."

"May I atleast inform Granger about her upcoming child or should I wait till after its been born?'' he sneered.

"I see, Granger has brought back your sarcasm. Charming."

Draco eyed his senior in annoyance, wishing to tell him exactly what all Granger had brought.

Feelings of uneasiness… hatred… mistrust… guilt... worry…

Ignoring his racing heart, he clasped his hands tightly and restrained himself from jinxing the wizard. "You do realize, sir..." he began, leaning forward, unable to ignore the defamation. "…that you insult my training by suggesting that I'd leak something."

It was now Kingsley's turn to snort.

"Training, my arse! I know you despise her and how badly you're trying to get off this case. But if word gets out, I'll-"

"Yes, yes! You'll make me Potter's puppet," interrupted Draco, dismissively. "Although that's not different from how things really are, to be honest. And who says I won't prefer that over Granger?" he asked.

Kingsley grunted into his drink, ignoring the wizard.

Taking his time, he emptied the flask in a couple of gulps without bothering to reply.

There was too much truth to object his reasoning.

"I hope you're happy," Draco accused after few uneasy minutes when he realized that annoying and disrupting his life were not just Granger's favourite past-time activities.

"Bursting with joy actually," Kingsley retorted, after he had cleared the table with a tick of his fingers. He started aligning his papers, disregarding the junior wizard's growing frustration.

He knew he couldn't blame Malfoy for trying to dump the case. Honestly, he understood his reluctance. But if Malfoy was stuck with her, then he, as the case in-charge, was stuck with them both. And this was such an unusual circumstance, that he genuinely did not have an option.

But the way those two whined, he ought to be commended for still keeping them alive.

And the crucial point in all this chaos was that he truly didn't have many trusted and experienced Aurors to investigate the case. They were still winding up the lone wolfs from the war that had threatened to disrupt their somewhat established harmony. There were still news of disappearances and murders that frequently kept him awake at night.

He wanted to assemble stricter norms and harsher punishments, but it hadn't been easy. There was always an ulterior motive, an ulterior agenda. A larger threat that needed to be dealt with.

So, despite the general displeasure, he had been to a couple of important raids, to avoid missing the opportunity of uprooting the evil. But sadly, it hadn't been enough.

Only after realizing that the loners were targeting him specifically now, to single him out in the open, so that they could infiltrate the Ministry with their men, had he stopped conducting raids.

He missed the thrill.

He ached for the thrill.

But he also understood his role. He was not going to start a third war because of his idiocy.

So, if that meant that he had to sit on a chair daily and make some harsh decisions and kick people's ass, then he was going to do just that.

And if that also meant that a certain Draco Malfoy and a certain Hermione Granger (who had most definitely walked out of her frame of the Christmas gift to him) were upset over his decision, then he truly didn't give a rat's fuck.

Malfoy was the only option.

And that was that.

And although the grey-eyed Auror was a hard prick, Kingsley knew that he was also a ruthless hard prick. His upbringing didn't make him go weak in his knees when he was given any special case.

If anything, he acted more ugly than necessary. It was his personal theory that Malfoy did that just to prove his team members that he didn't show any favoritism. Since most of the challenging cases knew him or had known his family some way or the other. He didn't know what Lucius Malfoy's reaction was to that. Draco never mentioned and he never asked.

And now, this time, Hermione Granger was not just a simple case.

She was anything but simple.

He knew how challenging and stubborn she could be. He had full experience of that.

He didn't think any of his Aurors, except, Potter, _maybe_ , had the capacity of over-powering her. Her celebrity status often made people wary of her. And she used that to tear them apart. He had seen it. He was proud of it.

But if there was anyone Kingsley knew of, who could manage the witch, then it was the wizard sitting right in front of him.

Although, at this moment, he probably was plotting to hex his balls someday. But he wasn't that worried. _They weren't really that useful._

And if Granger's safety meant Malfoy's annoyance, then so much better for him and so much worse for the wizard. The bastard deserved some mayhem in his life.

Nodding to himself, Kingsley roughly wiped his mouth with his sleeve and with eyeing him said, "I believe it might bode well if you stop showing interest in Granger's sexual activities. Bring me some worthwhile information next time. You may see yourself out."

"You think I'm interested in Granger's sex life?" Draco asked in disbelief, ignoring his command to leave.

Kingsley chose not to comment and instead opening a desk drawer, he retrieved a quill and started signing some papers.

"You don't understand," Malfoy stated when he was awarded silence. "I think this was it. Patch her up with Wea- or, whoever's child this is and get her out of my house. Sir!" he hastily added.

"And are you _hundred percent_ sure?" Kingsley asked, turning a page. "I asked you to talk to your friend. Cecily's son! Did you do that?"

Draco tsked in irritation but didn't voice his comeback.

"DID YOU?"

"I think it's irrelev-"

" _DID YOU?"_

The frustrated wizard let out a long sigh and turned to gaze outside.

A view of a counterfeit waterfall greeted him. Fake. Just like his life. His existence. "No, sir."

"And pray tell, weren't you the one to tell me it was Cecily who had threatened Granger?" Kingsley asked, casting aside the papers onto the side table to glare at the wizard.

"Yes. B-but, Granger is involved with some wizard. We know that now. She must have had a fight or a lover's-"

"And if it's not?" Kingsley interrupted. "You had said it yourself that you don't think she is suicidal. There's more to this. You know it! Had you even the slightest bit of doubt you wouldn't have brought her to me in the first place."

"I could be wrong," Draco muttered, lowering his gaze and fiddling with a paper weight instead.

"Of course, you could be. You're no Potter!" Kingsley said wrathfully, knowing this would hit the mark. "But you're letting hatred rule your mind. Potter doesn't do that. And tomorrow, if Cecily gets her killed the moment you dump her back; whose fault is that?"

Draco refused to reply, silently giving a dismissive shrug.

"ÄNSWER ME! WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?"

The young wizard counted to five and tried a different tactic rather than giving in into the strong urge of flinging the tiny quaffle paper weight onto his senior's head.

"What if I get you the wizard's name? I'm sure both mother and child would be safe with him."

Kingsley lost whatever composure was left of him and eyed Draco furiously.

"YOU WILL NOT INVADE HER PERSONAL LIFE. SHE HAS A RIGHT OF KEEPING IT HIDDEN IF SHE WANTS TO. AM I CLEAR?"

Draco looked at him and opened his mouth already willing to disagree.

"I said, Am. I. Clear?"

"Yes," he automatically replied.

They glared at each other for an entire minute, each cursing the other for making their life difficult.

Kingsley's eyes flashed in contempt. Malfoy had never so openly declined his direct orders. With any of his past cases. Even when he had assigned him to Potter, to gauge his temper, he'd behaved himself. Or, as best as a Malfoy could behave, as Potter had later reported. And although he knew he ought to cut him some slack, but he wasn't going to.

It was simple, really. Either his team obeyed his orders. Or they didn't work for him.

Crossing his arms and legs, the Minister refused to feel sorry for the wizard who looked extremely dejected and lost as he mumbled an apology and raised himself to leave.

"I didn't know you were interested to know who Granger fucks. Had I not known about your upbringing, I could have sworn you wanted to bed her yourself," Kingsley drawled.

"How d-! It's not that!" Draco countered immediately, controlling his rapid heartbeat as he sat back, ignoring his knuckles which had turned white in indignation.

He did not want the Minister to look at him or his family badly.

Not again.

Not ever.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to bring his mind to focus. "I apologize, sir. But please understand. This living situation is not helping. We-e really cannot live in the same house. It's not a matter of what my interests are, it's a matter of my sanity. And hers, too. She doesn't trust me. Hell, I don't trust her myself. She thinks I'm going to do something to her. She sleeps with her wand. I'm not trying to get off the case-" Kingsley eyed him in challenge. "- _now_. I'm not. But she can live somewhere else. Anywhere else. And I'll still work on this. I'll find out what's really wrong. But this-this protecting thing at my own house isn't working."

"Then make it work, you bastard!" Kingsley shouted menacingly. "I don't care what ridiculous justification you give me. It won't sway me."

"Sir-"

"Leave. I've had enough!" Kingsley raged, pointing at the door. "Of both of you. Next time if it's not some information that is actually worth my time, I'll suspend you for refusal of action."

"But-"

And you didn't answer me," Kingsley broke, raising his chin. "When and there is a when… When someone does try and get Granger killed, who is responsible?"

Draco knew he was walking on thin ice now and one wrong answer could put him out of practice. Forever.

Gulping the big knot forming in his throat, he rejected the answer that was bursting to come out of him. _You would be responsible, you swine!_

"Sir, it won't come to that."

"Who, Malfoy! Who would be responsible?"

"I don't-"

"Who's fault, Malfoy?"

"HER OWN!" Draco finally snapped. "BECAUSE SHE'S A FUCKED-UP CUNT! AND IF SHE WANTS TO SPREAD HER LEGS AND HAVE FUN, THEN THAT'S NOT MY PROBLEM! AND I DON'T UNDERSTAND WHY SHOULD IT BE YOU—"

 _Fuck._

 _No, he was fucked._

He lowered his eyes, as the veins of his neck painfully throbbed because of all the yelling.

 _Fuck._

 _Fuck Kingsley Shacklebolt and fuck Hermione Granger._

 _Fuck them all to hell._

His career was most certainly over.

Chancing a quick look to gauge the Minister's reaction, he sighed and braced himself. He knew he had to control his emotions…to control his tongue. But she had that effect on him. She always had.

Annoying little bitch.

He peaked a glance at Kingsley again and saw him staring icily at him.

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up from the chair, shoved his shaking hands in his pockets and mumbled a hasty apology and decided to put as much distance between them as possible.

He almost succeeded in shutting the door behind him when Kingsley summoned him back.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Draco Malfoy left the Ministry building feeling smaller than a decayed pile of pixie droppings left to dry.

He had received the worst lecture ever and had lost interest in anything and everything that life still offered. Kingsley had not only reminded him of his position as just his _mere_ employee, but had also warned to remove him from service if he didn't— _what had he said again?_ —yes, grew some balls...

But what was he supposed to do? The moment he had learnt about this development, he had been beyond scared. Knowing who he was, what he was a part of, nobody had even trusted him with guarding their pets. And here he was now, straddled with a dreadful witch, who lived with him, made his life impossible and would soon pop a child that was— _Merlin knew whose!_

Deep down Draco had an inkling that he wouldn't be able to sway Kingsley's decision. But he was _well,_ _to simply put it_ , too desperate to try. He didn't know Kingsley would actually threaten him.

And if somehow, his stars finally decided to take pity on him by making Kingsley change his mind by throwing Granger out or, _or_ , _even better!_ — directly question her, well, he still would have kept an eye on her.

Just out of curiosity.

Humanity.

Whatever.

But now that he was getting cemented with her, more firmly than he'd have ever imagined, he couldn't help but imagine fucked up scenarios. What if he messed up? What if he pushed her in his rage and she fell down and broke her neck? Or, _oh god!_ _What could be worse than this_ : his inability to protect them? What if he accidentally harmed them?

Would he be held responsible for yet another death?

 _No_.

He wasn't going to let this arrangement survive that long. To see that swell of her stomach, jutting forward as she walked.

He had to gather his wits.

Cursing himself, for not contacting Blaise before, he tore two blank parchments from a work station— (snarled at a wizard when he snatched a stray quill from his desk) and wrote two quick letters to request his friends to meet with him tonight.

He couldn't waste any more time.

He blanched and violently shook his head at the thought of a child— _No_ , he was going to find out, really find out what was wrong in her life.

Folding the parchments, he went straight to the owlery.

Having no appetite to encounter a smug face of Ernie Macmillan, who would definitely be gushing about his success with their last Muggle case, he flooed directly to his abode.

Throwing his overcoat on the recliner, he instructed the elf to bring him a drink, ignoring her considering looks.

He wasn't worried about Granger for now. He was aware that she had some heavy meetings lined up for three more hours, giving him ample of time to get pissed.

He had assumed his leader might want to interrogate her directly and so had confirmed with her silly little secretary before storming towards Kingsley. The only confirmation he had got that day instead was a promise to chop his manhood if he didn't try harder.

 _Hmph._

Loosening his cravat and swallowing his fourth drink, he tossed the empty decanter on a nearby table and snapped his fingers.

He tried to focus towards his left knee, but saw two big globes of piercing eyes instead. "One more," he ordered and slumped his head on the backrest. _Nobody had the right to judge him._

"Master?"

"Master?" the quivering voice nudged him again. He opened his right eye and saw the elf gently patting his knee.

He tried to snarl, he really did, but what came out instead were some garbled words —a mixture of 'fuck off and get lost,' —in his drunken state.

He didn't even realize that he had fallen asleep when Ellie gently woke him several hours later to show the letters that had arrived.

Groaning in pain, he stretched his stiff neck and went to clean himself while ordering the elf to bring the headache potion after he had gone through their replies.

Sober, clean and with a dose of Pepper-up in his belly, he whisked his wand to camouflage his blood-shot eyes, and stood at the top of the stairs, dressed and determined, when the floo rang and he saw Granger stepping out.

Brushing soot from her robes, he noticed her greeting Ellie and ask— _no_ , _Granger didn't ask_ , _she requested_ — the elf to bring her some juice as she started climbing the stairs.

 _What? No, firewhisky tonight?_ He remarked with narrowed eyes.

He stopped fastening the last button as his eyes automatically travelled towards her abdomen. He wondered if it was a coincidence that she had started wearing loose robes now.

She ignored him (as usual) when she reached his level and walked towards her room. He heard the light thud of the door as she quietly closed it shut behind her.

That reminded him that he had to give some fresh instructions to the elf. He descended the stairs, two at a time and grabbed a cloak from the stand when he heard her call him from above.

"Malfoy! Wait. Are you going out?"

He turned his neck sideways without bothering to face her. "What do you want?" he said nastily.

"Nothing. I asked you a question. If you are having any hearing difficulty, I can repeat it for you," she replied calmly, descending the stairs behind him.

He turned to face her then, his lower lip twitching in latent anger when he saw her standing at the landing.

"I heard you. But it's none of your business to know what I do. It's the other way around. Remember?"

"How can I forget? I get the privilege of living in this sickening house."

"Aww!" he mocked, enrobing the cloak. "Why don't you run and complain to Potter? I'm sure he'd right it for you."

"Leave Harry out of this! As it is you've done enough damage by opening your mouth in front of Kingsley!"

"Yeah, right!" he snorted, smoothening the collar. "I shouldn't have said a word. I shouldn't have done a thing. Not even like saving your life!" he spat.

"I wouldn't have died! I would've just bruised myself."

"Oh yeah? So why don't we try that now? You can replay that part where you jump and I promise not to interfere."

"You're pathetic."

"You're a fool."

"You're a pathetic fool."

"And you're a lying and manipulative, gold digger!"

Hermione gasped.

"Isn't that why you left Weasley?"

"Shut up!"

"Or is the rumour mill true this time? About his chickening out in tarrying times? Not that I blame him, but, perhaps you can try his brothers now?"

"Shut up!"

"Well, well, well! Look at that blush!" taunted Draco, knowing that the pink tinge on her cheeks was anything but shyness. "I guess you already did! Was it the dunce? Or the beasty?" he leered, walking towards her. "You two have many similarities. What with he being a dog and you being a bitc-"

A hex flew across his right ear, which he deflected on reflex with just his fingers.

"Nice try, Granger. But if you do that again I swear I'll make you pay."

"How dare you!"

He was about to tell her in some extremely, unkind words exactly how he dared, when the clock chimed, reminding him of his plan for the night.

Throwing another ugly look in her direction, he summoned the elf and instructed her to closely watch the witch, eyeing her challengingly the whole time and marched towards the floo.

"When will you return? I have to go out."

"Of course, you do," he said inattentively, noticing his untied shoe lace. He sat on the arm of the recliner, folded his knee above the other and bent forwards to tie.

"I'm supposed to meet my client."

"I clearly remember telling you that I need to be informed a minimum of two hours before any of your meeting," he broke, dusting his hands on the trousers.

"I did. I sent you a memo."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying! I sent the message at three! Isn't that enough?"

Draco realized he must have missed her missive as he hadn't been to his cabin. After his fiasco with Kingsley, he had simply turned home.

He knew she had followed his rule.

He knew technically it wasn't her fault.

He knew she was right at being angry.

But he also knew he wasn't going to tell her that.

"Since I didn't receive your memo, I'm going to assume it wasn't important. Else, you'd have sent another one."

"That- that's not fair."

"Like I care. Now excuse me, I have to be somewhere."

"Wait!"

He turned again and for a split second he saw her hesitation, but then her eyes hardened and he thought she was about to hex him, which caused him to instantly retrieve his own wand. But she confused him instead by running away _. She couldn't floo without him, did she forget that?_ But before he could ponder over it, she had dodged him towards the fireplace and without giving him any time, snatched the vase and flung some powder to shout, "Shacklebolt residence!" while allowing the vase to fall unceremoniously on the carpet.

Sprinting behind her, he yanked her away from the hearth and pinned her to his rising chest. "You bitch!" he snarled.

"Scared?" she whispered back, struggling to pull free. "Kingsley! Are you there? KINGSLEY!"

Draco pointed his wand and doused the fire by pouring angry jets of aqua over it. "Why did you do that for?" he asked, annoyed by her antics.

"I thought you needed a reminder," she replied, breaking free and turning to grin extra sweetly at him with a smug face.

She folded her arms and tapping her foot, raised an eyebrow. _Well?_

"Fine! Just- let's just go," he countered raising his hands in exasperation. He didn't think he was ready to face Kingsley for a while now. Luckily for him, his senior must be still at the Ministry as her call wasn't returned. _So much for small mercies._

"But I don't have my meeting for another hour!" she complained, when he went to repair the empty vase.

"I do. We're leaving now."

"Can't you just go and come back for me in an hour?"

He simpered at her then, the way she had, annoyingly, smugly, and said, "No."

She had stomped and called him names all the way to her room when he had ordered her to get ready in ten minutes.

She had taken fifteen, just to be contrary. And when he thought he should leave the vixen behind and come back for her later, she had returned, in a ghastly deep blue dress, with a freshly scrubbed face and damp hair left wildly open to either dehumidify or scare people away, he wasn't sure. He suspiciously observed her ensemble, speculating her outing for something extremely informal.

 _Merlin's tits! The witch was a harlot!_

The way that dress hung on her petite frame had to be declared criminal. Her neckline, well, it wasn't obscenely deep, but she was pregnant for fuck's sake! She should be decently dressed at least during such times.

 _If his mother ever learnt that he was sharing his house with such a fallen woman, she'd get him married immediately. She wouldn't want him to go ploughing anywhere where she wouldn't like to see offsprings erupting from. Not that he ever would._

Sighing in defeat, he walked out of the entrance, (since flooing was out of question for the time being) and waited for her to close the door behind them.

He apparated them to a small alley in Appleby, refusing to tell her the direct location. Having safely landed, she simply whisked her hand away from his grip and looked around her rather dully.

Turning towards the right, Draco pointed a wooden, double doored entryway, and directed her to follow him.

She was used to this by now. So, despite her annoyance, she shadowed him to The Tavern, feeling her wand once for safety.

Draco double tapped the entrance, which creaked open on his touch. Pushing it with his entire forearm, he hesitated for a second, his other hand numbly lying on the door handle now, unsure of how his friends would react on seeing them.

He retreated back, and pulling her to a side, glanced apprehensively at the door again.

"We are done already? And I thought people enjoyed your company."

"Will you just shut up for a second?" he snapped, and peeked at the door again.

"Well?"

"I'm meeting some friends."

"Why are you telling me? Go finish your visit," she replied and turned to walk away.

"Granger! Wait! I'm meeting Blaise and Nott."

She blinked at him, once, twice and then shrugged her shoulders. "So?"

He watched her closely. But she either didn't care about him meeting Blaise or was extremely good at concealing emotions. _For heaven's sake! He was meeting her tormentor's son._

Assuming that she knew he was friends with Blaise since school, he realized that he didn't have the surprise element. But he was hoping that she'd giveaway _well_ , _atleast something_. But she neither stuttered, glanced away nor swallowed any lump down her throat. She was becoming a difficult person to study and he couldn't help but be slightly proud of the fact that Kingsley thought he was capable of handling her.

 _And good god!_ What was the harpy going on about? "…a double-faced wizard, who didn't want to be seen with people like her…"

He didn't even bother to react to her bickering.

Was she really that great an actor?

He did not know. He fucking did not know. He did not know anything about her. And he'd have _bloody well_ , liked it to remain that way. Only, he couldn't.

 _And why was that again?_

 _Oh yes,_ _for he had fucked up his own career._

Scratching his forehead, he said, "Look, Kingsley doesn't want anyone to know about this. So, let's keep it that way even with them. Just go inside and sit somewhere on the right side facing the door. Okay? And order something to eat."

"Don't tell me what to do!"

"Fine. Look stupid by simply sitting there!"

He pulled her by her hand then before she could argue and after opening the entrance door of the bar, touched her back, ready to push her in, if she acted up. He felt her shiver slightly but ignored the feel of her soft skin under his fingers. He experienced a strong urge to run his thumb in small circles there, resisting the urge to lower his hand to check if she was wearing her brassiere. But instead, he found himself pulling back, when he remembered who the back belonged to.

Peeking inside, he realized his friends hadn't arrived yet and so he gladly walked inside. He sat a couple of tables away, their view of each other obstructed as she sat in the little, cozy booth few tables behind him. He took the table closest to the door and ordered a drink rather than wait for his tardy friends and guarded his table from eavesdropper like Granger.

A few giggles, one disgusting song of Old Hippogriffs Want to Ride, and some couple of minutes later, the door opened again as Theodore Nott entered.

Draco saw his friend's reflection on the mirror above the counter and raised his hand to wave at him.

Grinning widely, the bespectacled wizard walked towards his table as Draco rose to greet him. He was genuinely glad that he still had some friends who did not judge him for his life choices.

Giving lame excuses for making him wait, his friend sat on the opposite side and started talking about mundane things. Time passed pleasantly with the two friends, sharing gossips and food.

Draco let his eyes roam behind Theo and in between the partition separating their tables, he saw the outline of her head and nodded at his friend who was apparently discussing his work.

"—was last year. This time they want me to work for Gringotts! Imagine, making me in-charge of their corporate accounts," Nott was saying.

"And how much gold are you transferring?" Draco asked, paying attention to the wizard now.

"Nothing currently, I just keep an eye on transactions," Nott replied, snatching his friend's drink from the table and gulping it down in two breaths.

They signaled for the waiter then and were placing an order for some whisky and food when their friend showed up.

"Whatever it is, make that three," he announced, squeezing the server's butt, thumping Draco's back and pushing Theo inside to settle beside him.

"Nice of you to join us. Been busy, Blaise?" Nott asked.

The dark wizard shrugged. "Same old, same old."

"What are you up to these days?" Draco asked, picking up the dry shrimp that had been placed on their table.

"Just working. Making some calls here, there. Buy, take, sell stuff."

"Anything interesting lately?" Theo asked, turning his body and grinning unashamedly at his friend.

"You know I don't "sell" that kind of stuff, Theo. And if you're really that randy I can fix you up on a date," Blaise countered, shaking his head. "Desperate asshole," he fondly cussed.

"Well, you'd be too, if you didn't fuck for over three months! I'm telling you, these goblins, they're immune to such things. They aren't family oriented, or, or— even have any appetites,"

"I certainly do," Blaise commented, serving himself the shrimp, the roasted chicken and the ham sandwich quite enthusiastically.

Draco smirked in his drink and Theo smacked his friend's back in agreement. "You've more than one. We know that. In fact, I heard you left that tearful Ravenclaw, — _she was a Spell Registrar, wasn't she? Damn, I forgot her name! anyway_ , — you left her limping when you were done!"

Blaise looked offended as he turned towards his friend. "I did not leave her limping," he replied in mock hurt, his hand resting over his heart. "I left her satisfied. And if that's what she's telling people, perhaps I should meet her again," he grinned and winked at them both.

"You're pathetic," Draco ridiculed, shaking his head in silent laughter.

"Better pathetic, than desperate!" Blaise replied, pointing with his chin towards Nott and licking his thumb for traces of left flavor.

"I'm not desperate! I'm just horny," confessed Theo, and threw a shrimp in his friend's direction for good measure, when he tried to distance himself from him in false horror. "Oi! Shut up!" he laughed. "I wouldn't shag jerks like you or some you-know-whats (he ducked his head at that) for any action."

"No, you won't," agreed Draco, wondering inside whether she had ordered anything. "You'll just shag your pillow instead!" he said with a straight face.

"That's why you had two pillows on your bed?" Blaise snickered.

Theo scowled at his blond friend then, his ears turning a light shade of red.

"I thought you had a back problem or something," Blaise continued, clearly enjoying this latest learning. He looked at him in bewilderment.

"No, he just had a pussy problem!" Draco supplied, swallowing a mouthful of whisky and then joined his friend who was roaring in laughter.

Theo huffed in indignation.

"How did you even—no, I don't wanna know. Lest you mention some other embarrassing detail."

"And what about you, Draco?" Blaise asked, wiping his happy tears.

"I never had a problem. Thank you very much," Draco injected confidently.

"Yeah, pussies love him,"

"They do."

"Lucky bastard," snickered Theo.

They chatted for a while then, recalling their past incidences and Nott told them about his break up with Tracy Davis's sister.

"How's your father?" Theo asked Draco, after a while when Blaise had almost finished the chicken.

Draco shrugged. "Haven't spoken to him lately."

It was that point of such an utter desperation in Draco's life, that he inquired Theo in turn to his question about his own father. And only the fact that he'd get to ask Blaise next about his mother, made him continue the topic.

Draco and Theo both knew how their past had nearly wiped out their lives, their innocence. But unfortunately, Theo had also lost his mother. The only person who had tried stopping his father from taking him to the Dark Lord. But once his father had silenced her, he was forced to flee.

He had surfaced directly after the war had ended. Safe, unhurt, but not really whole.

Nobody knew where he had been or how he had survived alone for so long. But he had evaded his father's attempts to cuff him during the dark days.

They had never spoken even once during that time, scared that the other one might betray him and had reconciled only after the war had ended. Blaise had played a huge part.

Draco had a vague idea about where Theo must have ran off to during that time, but he thought it unwise and unimportant to ask. After all, he was not the only one with secrets.

"He doesn't want me to visit him anymore," Theo confided, after a while, quietly checking the dew drops forming on his glass. "Calls me a disgrace."

"Why do you even go there?" Blaise asked, feeling sorry for his friend.

"He's alone. And even if I hate him and everything, he is, I dunno, I mean-"

"He's still your father in the end," Draco interjected.

Theo looked at him then. Blue eyes meeting the cold grey ones in understanding. "Yeah."

"And, I don't think- that, _well, you know_... I don't think he can survive that thing for long," Theo sighed, and emptied his glass.

Draco waved his hand for a refill then, whereas Blaise, extremely uncomfortable, looked inquiringly at Draco, who just held up his hand for patience.

"He eats after my visit," Theo informed them, smiling sadly. "Otherwise, he just… and they don't even bother," he shrugged his answer.

Blaise offered him an affectionate pat on his shoulder.

Draco almost felt guilty for using Theo as a bait. He promised himself to talk to him when things settled down in his own life.

"What about you, Blaise? Found any new father lately?" Draco asked, pretending to switch the topic and winked at Theo, who grudgingly chuckled at his friend's expense.

"Nah! Just on number six now. Or, wait, was it seven?" he replied in mock thoughtfulness. They all laughed then and Draco held that point as an anchor to talk more about his mother, Cecily Zabini.

"Heard about her latest debacle with the law," Draco said, swallowing his whisky _. Fuck!_ He was in for some hard puke session tonight. This was his seventh glass since afternoon.

"Who didn't?" muttered Blaise and shook his head in resignation.

"What happened?" Theo asked, removing his eye glasses and rubbing his eyes dry.

"She wanted a new one, I think. Didn't work out."

"What do you mean?" Theo asked, cleaning his glasses for good measure and donning it back.

"I mean, she tried to get away from him-" Draco translated that for _'tried to silence him',_ "-but they had a row, over his property. His son-" he sneered then, "-her step-son, that is, saw them arguing. And the next thing I know, the man's killed and little Jake is being interrogated by the Wizengamot." He looked directly at Draco then.

"You know, I'd tell you, if I know anything, right?" Draco said, calmly looking at his friend, willing him to trust him.

"I know," Blaise said, looking frustrated. He ruffled his hair then and said pointedly, "But Jake's so young!"

"Why do you care? He's not even your-"

"No, Theo. Even if he isn't my real son, I can't leave him. He's innocent."

As much as Draco agreed with Blaise's assessment that his _'so-called nephew'_ was innocent, his main focus was on the said nephew's _'so-called grand-mother'._

"So she's…?" Theo stuttered, peeking a glance at Draco, who shrugged in ignorance. 'Shut up!' he mouthed.

"No, she's on bail. She's talking to me nowadays. Calling me for lunches. Asking me to bring Jake. But there's no way in hell I'm gonna do that."

"Blaise,-" Draco said urgently. "-do you need any help? I can arrange someone to keep an eye on him, if you want. Where's he now?"

Blaise shook his head and started eating again. They were used to his stress eating.

"He's with a friend, don't worry. I don't usually keep him away from me. But he's safe."

The two friends understood Blaise's hesitancy in telling them more about Jake. And neither blamed him. Blaise had never had a proper family. Despite everything, he had both his friends. And Theo had had his mother. But Blaise, had nobody.

"I just can't believe I left him for one night with her and this is what happens!"

Draco knew that Blaise loved his dead fiancée's son, Jake dearly. But unfortunately, Cecily Zabini wasn't so attached to him.

Blaise chuckled quietly then, making Draco and Theo raise their brows. "What?" Theo asked, grinning in reaction.

"She told Granger to go fuck herself after one of her trials," Blaise snickered.

Theo frowned in confusion and twisted his palm in inquiry. "Hermione Granger? What was she doing there?"

"She works with that jerk, her step-son," Blaise countered and snorted again.

"And you find this funny because…?"

"Granger told her that she'd do just that since ' _she'_ had fucked every available wizard in Britain."

Draco winced and Theo looked on his either sides, confused between laughter and embarrassment.

"I know I should be angry, but she never was my mother, you know. Never felt like one."

Draco nodded in understanding and finished off the last piece of shrimp that Blaise was eyeing for a while now.

"Such a mudblood bitch though, to say such a vile thing," said Theo.

"There's too much truth in that. And anyway, Mother won't let that insult pass. She'll make her life hell."

 _You have no idea,_ Draco thought.

"She really hates her, you know. Even more than she hates your mother, Draco."

"And that's saying something," Theo supplied and they all laughed in unison.

They spoke for some more time while Draco kept a steady eye on Hermione's head which he felt was twitching in unrest.

 _Serves you right,_ he thought. As he had to do the very same thing on every meeting of hers.

Stretching his back to loosen his aching muscles, Draco saw Theo yawn and they decided to call it a day.

They argued a little when the cheque turned up. But Blaise just dumped the galleons in their server's breast pocket _(going directly for a feel-ski)_ and dejectedly marched outside when the server didn't even blush in reaction to his shameless flirting.

Thumping Theo's back, Draco promised to call upon him soon and the two friends went outside, talking and laughing.

After his friends left, the blond wizard, now tired and drunk than ever, dragged himself back inside.

"This place is horrible," Hermione complained after Draco had walked in her booth. "Their food is _yuck!_ And that-that waiter over there is just… _argh!_ I don't know why people come to places like this."

Draco rolled his eyes and advanced towards the exit, but Hermione was still going on. "She slipped her address to me!" accused Hermione and gave a little shudder when their common server winked and blew her a kiss.

 _Ah! Well, at least now he knew why the server wasn't interested in Blaise._


End file.
